Unpredictable (ON HAITUS)
by shipnation
Summary: Michonne and Rick meet after devastating circumstances. Richonne-centric. A/U: No Zombies
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

* * *

Andre was engrossed in his hand held video game. Mortal Kombat more than likely the game of choice. It was his favorite. His legs hanging off the kitchen chair, Andre was bundled up in his winter coat and his Ninja Turtles backpack ready for his dad to come and pick him up. Michonne looked back at the cable box clock for what felt like the millionth time in the past hour. The digital nine turned into a zero and it was now 8:30 pm. Mike was supposed to be here to pick up Andre over an hour ago. Michonne got up ready to tell Andre to put his bag away and get into his pajamas when the doorbell finally rang.

Andre perked up, his smile large on his face, excited to see his father. Michonne, not so much. Her scowl returned as she walked over to open the door.

"You are late." she stated coldly.

Mike looked at her like she had two heads which made her even more vexed. "I had business." he offered.

"Business that made you over an hour late to pick up your son?" The veins in her forehead were making an appearance.

"Michonne...please." Mike said dismissively. He had a knack for making Michonne feel like she was overreacting. It was one of the many things that made their relationship hard to keep. Even now, Michonne felt herself getting increasingly angry at his passiveness. She was ready to give him a piece of her mind again when Andre rushed passed her.

"Daddy!" he screamed out happily. Michonne decided to drop it for the time being, so to not make a scene in front of her son.

"Hey bud!" Mike returned, lifting Andre into a hug.

Michonne hated the way things turned out with her and Mike. He was unreliable and self centered but despite it all he was a good father and Andre loved him. There was a time when she thought they would actually grow old together with three kids and two dogs but somewhere along the line life changed and so did she. It almost felt like they both woke up one morning and all the love was gone. Michonne knew it did not work that way, but that is what it felt like.

Mike placed Andre back on the ground, "Go buckle up in the back seat, while I talk to Mom for a little bit."

Michonne hugged herself tightly as a cold gust of wind passed. The temperature was dropping, it was only one week left of winter and mother nature was getting her last bits in. Michonne watched as Andre sped off to the car.

"Hey!" Michonne yelled at him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Andre ran back over to his Mom, wrapping his tiny arms around her legs.  
"I'll see you on Monday, peanut." Michonne said as she bent down to give him a long kiss on his cheek.

"Awww Mom!" he said trying to pry himself away, making Michonne laugh. Andre scurried off climbing into his father's car.

Michonne turned back to Mike and her smile faded.

"I need to talk to you about something." he said. Michonne did not like his tone of voice. It was the voice you use when you are about to deliver bad news. "I met someone." he came out and said.

Michonne looked at him confused. They have been apart for close to three years, they never before needed to tell the other when they started dating.

"Okay..." Michonne said walking past him back to her front door.

"I want Andre to come with me."

Michonne stopped in her tracks. She turned to look at him directly in the eyes then burst into laughter. The audacity of his statement was hilarious to her.

"I already filed the paper work." he continued.

No longer finding the situation funny, Michonne glared at Mike, "How dare you?" Michonne said getting angry now. "How fucking dare you?"

"He is my son as well I have every ri..."

"You have no right!" Michonne exploded. Her eyes darted to the back seat of the car to see if Andre had heard her. He had not, his head and mind focused back into his hand held game.

"Michonne, Jenny and I want to start a family. Andre is a part of that family." Mike tried to explain.

"You are telling me this now? You want to take my son away from me and you are telling me this now?"

"She cannot have children Michonne, and I just thought that..."

"You are not taking my son!" she was screaming, and now Andre had begun to notice.

"We'll talk about this later." he retorted. Mike started making his way back to his car. Michonne felt her body temperature rise making her forget about the almost freezing weather outside.

"Don't walk away from me!" she called out after him. "You are not taking my son!"

Mike continued to the front seat.

"Andre get out of the car." Michonne ordered. Andre was confused and looked at his mother with sad, pleading eyes. Mike walked back to Michonne.

"It is my weekend with him."

"You are not taking my son." Michonne said firmly.

"Our son." Mike corrected her.

"Andre." she called again, this time, he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the car door. Mike shook his head no, and nudged Andre back into the car.

Michonne hated this. She hated creating a scene in front of Andre, but Mike had gone too far. When they decided that their relationship was not going to work she never wanted to take Andre from his father. She never wanted to keep Mike away. Now, Mike wanted to take Andre away from her, and to just put in the paperwork without even discussing it with her? She would not let that happen. She went to get Andre herself when Mike stopped her.

"It is my weekend with him. I will return with him on Monday. We'll discuss this more then. Do not do this now."

Michonne glared at him, full of anger and disgust. Her eyes shifted to Andre who was looking at her. She could see that he was scared, on the verge of crying. This was all Mike's doing. He sprung this on her, all out of left field. She looked at Andre again. Panic was set in his eyes. He was not used to seeing his mother react in such a way and he was oblivious as to why. Michonne immediately let her face soften to Andre. Her entire being was telling her to get him out of that car, to not let Mike take her son away from her, but Andre's happiness was her utmost priority. She would have to swallow her pride and let him go. He had been looking forward to this weekend all week and she did not want to rob him of that, no matter how much she hated Mike right now.

Michonne felt a wetness upon her cheek, she looked up, but it was not raining. She wiped it off noticing that she had started to cry. She tapped on the window telling Andre to roll it down.

"I'm sorry peanut." she started, rubbing his head gently. "Have fun and I'll see you Monday, okay?" Andre nodded his head sadly. "Mommy loves you." she added, bringing a small smile to his face. Michonne leaned in giving Andre a kiss on his forehead, then turned to Mike who was watching the entire exchange.

"Bring my son back 8am Monday morning and not a minute later or I will call the police."

Rolling her eyes she walked back into her home. Michonne did not feel good about it. Not one bit.

* * *

The loud chime of the house phone startled Michonne. After Mike left with Andre she was so angry and worn out that she fell asleep right on the living room couch.

Michonne sat up and looked at the digital clock on the cable box. It read 10:37. She looked out the window, still dark. She reached over to the coffee table where the cordless phone laid.

"Hello?" Her voice giving a hint of trepidation. No one really called her house phone except for bill collectors and the occasional telemarketer.

Michonne listened intently at the voice on the other end of the line.

 _There's been an accident._

Michonne dropped the phone in her hand. Not even bothering to grab a coat, she rushed to the door grabbing her car keys from the plate holder, slamming the door behind her.

Her mind was racing as she traveled down Route 52, heading to where Mike lived. It was roughly a thirty to forty five minute drive out. Mike moved to a town just outside of the city after they broke up. Citing that he needed a new scene. The road was dark, there were no real lights to illuminate the route, just the common reflectors every few feet.

Michonne had been driving well above the speed limit and in about twenty minutes, she read the sign, King County 1 Mile, Keep Right. The road veered off into a blind curve, but she could see. Red and Blue lights flashed illuminating the road ahead of her. Michonne stopped her car just as she made it around the bend.

There were two police vehicles blocking off the road. An ambulance was also parked along the side. She saw a large blue truck, its front bumper hanging off the car. A silver sedan was halfway off the road, the entire front of the car pushed into itself. There was a firetruck and another emergency vehicle. Two paramedics were assisting a man onto a stretcher. Michonne did not have to look hard enough to know that it was Mike.

"My son! Where is my son!?" she screamed helplessly. Two officers blocked her passage into the crash site. "Please! My son!" She pushed her way pass the officers. Her mind frantic, she took in the carnage in front of her. A man in a brown Sheriff's uniform approached her, but she could not comprehend his words.

"My son?" she asked.

Michonne looked over his shoulders and that is when she saw it. The tiny red medical blanket covering what lies beneath. She immediately felt her heart drop to her stomach. Michonne pushed past the officer talking to her and made her way toward the blanket. As she got closer she could see small sneakers jutting out from underneath.

"Oh God...No." she said to herself.

Michonne bent down and peeled the blanket back exposing what was hidden.

Andre.

She let out a gut wrenching shriek. Andre's face was mangled, glass shards from the windshield still embedded in his skin. Michonne grabbed her son and cradled him in her arms.

"No, my baby." She wept. Her entire world was lying motionless in her arms. This was all wrong. She looked at her surroundings trying to find something unreal, something to prove this was all a dream. She felt hands pull her up off the ground, holding her at her waist. Another person was prying Andre from her arms.

"No! No! My baby! No! Please God! No!" she shrieked.

An officer placed Andre's body on a stretcher. Michonne could not think, the pain was unbearable, like someone was stabbing her in the heart with a knife and just would not quit. Her legs felt solid, her entire body felt too heavy to hold up. Michonne collapsed.

* * *

Michonne woke up not recognizing her surroundings. A beeping noise was the only sound being emitted in the room.

Heart rate monitor.

Hospital.

Andre.

Michonne swung her legs off of the bed as she tried to stand up. Her head was pounding, but all she could think about was Andre. She wanted to find someone so they could tell her it was just a dream.

Michonne made her way to the door when a man she recognized, still wearing the brown sheriff's uniform, intercepted her.

"Hey, now. Have a seat back on the bed." he said gently, guiding her back into the room.

"My son?" she inquired, her head throbbing as she took a seat back on the bed.

She looked at the man with pleading eyes, she wanted him to tell her it was not real. Her son was at his father's home playing Mortal Kombat in his favorite Captain America pajamas.

"My name is Rick Grimes." the man began. "I am the Deputy Sheriff of King County."

More thumping in her brain.

"Andre?"

The man took a deep breath, clearly struggling with the words he was about to say.

"Your son... Andre... He was involved in a head on collision on Route 52. He is dead. I'm sorry."

So it wasn't a dream. Michonne felt the well of tears begin to fall. She did not scream, she no longer had the energy for screaming. She sobbed silently at the reality of her son being gone.

"The man driving the vehicle. He suffered severe injuries. He is in surgery now." Rick continued.

Michonne had not even thought of Mike.

"Will he make it?" Michonne managed to croak out.

"It is too early to tell. I assure you though, they are doing everything in their power to save his life." he assured.

"Don't."

Michonne turned her back to the officer and laid back on the bed. She wanted to fall asleep. Reality was the worst kind of nightmare right now.

* * *

Rick watched the young woman as she slept. He went out to get her a cup of coffee and a pastry for when she woke up again. He still needed to ask her some questions and get some background information on the driver, but he did not feel right waking her up just yet after what she has just been through. It also did not feel right to leave her in the hospital with another officer she would not recognize.

Rick has been on the job for almost all of his entire adult life. He has seen his fair share of accidents and crashes, but none like the one he saw tonight. The young boy, who could have been no more than 8 years old, lying dead on the street was almost too much to bear. He thought about what he would do if that was one of his own children, but quickly pushed the thought from his head.

The woman stirred and Rick sat up at attention. She looked over at him, her eyes bloodshot red from crying.

"I brought you a coffee and a pastry. If you'd like."

Michonne did not answer him, she just sat up in the bed watching him.

Rick put the coffee and pastry on the end table closest to her in case she changed her mind.

"Uh... I uh... just have a few questions I need to ask you, if you could help me gather some information?" he asked.

She nodded her head, agreeing.

"The man driving the silver sedan, what is his relationship with the child?"

"He is his father." she answered in almost a whisper.

"And is he your husband?"

"No."

"Can you tell me when was the last time you saw them?"

"Around 8:30 this evening."

"Alright. Do you know the nature of their trip?"

"It was his weekend with Andre." Michonne trembled saying her sons name. The tears threatening to fall down once again. Rick passed her the box of tissues by her bed.

Rick asked her a couple more preliminary questions about Mike then put his notepad away. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

Michonne looked at the clock on the wall, it was pushing 3 am. She shook her head, no.

"Can I give you a ride somewhere?"

"My car?" Michonne remembered.

"I can take you where you need to go, I'll have an officer deliver your car in the morning."

Michonne picked up the coffee from the end table, it was only lukewarm now, taking a small sip. She nodded and followed Sheriff Grimes out of the hospital.

* * *

Michonne entered her home from the hospital. She did not want to go home, but her parents were on vacation for the winter and her best friend Andrea lived almost two hours away. The house was deafeningly silent. By the door was a pair of Andre's sneakers left out to dry. She walked in to the living room where a large photo of the two of them hung over the mantle. It was insufferable. Michonne began turning everything over. She pulled the couch a apart, throwing cushions every way, she flipped over the coffee table and smashed her expensive collection of glass vases. She punched one of the glass pictures hanging on the wall. Her knuckles began oozing blood. Still the pain was not enough to dull the hurt she felt inside. Michonne did not know if anything ever would.

* * *

Mike was still in critical condition. His surgery went well, but it was now a waiting game. Mike's phone was destroyed in the crash, and Michonne had no way of getting in contact with the woman, Jenny, Mike had mentioned. She really had no desire to try to track her down either.

Michonne called Andrea shortly after returning home from the hospital that night. She drove over immediately in the middle of the night to comfort her friend. She took off work to help Michonne and get the funeral arrangements done for Andre. Michonne did not know what kind of funeral she wanted, she just wanted to not be burying her own son.

The funeral was nice, or so everyone kept telling her. She had the reception back at her home helped put on by Andrea and her parents who flew back immediately, cutting their Hawaii vacation short. Michonne took everyone's well wishes the best she could, but the questions and concerns were starting to suffocate her. Everywhere she turned someone was telling her about God's plan. To be strong. You'll get through this. Everything happens for a reason. No. She did not want to be strong. She did not give a damn about God's plan. The death of her only son was not something she would just "get through." Instead of screaming she suppressed her anger deep inside, gave a thanks and a halfhearted smile and moved on to do it all over again with the next person.

Michonne made her rounds, thanking everyone for their love and support. While everyone was eating and making conversation, she slipped out to the back porch. She sat on the porch swing, staring out into the trees in her backyard. She thought about all the times she played tag with Andre in their backyard. All the picnics and barbecues. She remembered the time she bought a fire pit and they roasted marshmallows and made s'mores, and camped outside, or one of her favorite moments when she dressed up as the Joker and Andre chased her around in his Batman costume as he worked to save Gotham City. More importantly Michonne thought about all the moments lost. She will never be able to run around with her son back here again. The tears began to fall once more.

The porch door screeched open, and Michonne was sure it was her mother about to ask her if she was okay for the hundredth time.

"I'm fine." she said flatly.

"I'm sure you're not." a deep voice answered.

That was not the voice of her mother. Michonne turned to find Sheriff Grimes standing at the door. He wore a simple black suit. Funny, she did not remember seeing him at the funeral. She was not paying much attention to who was there anyway. Michonne kept her eyes on him as he made his way to the bench to sit next to her. He probably was here to ask more questions, she supposed. Surely it was not police protocol to attend a funeral of an accident victim anyway.

At first he sat in silence, not saying a word. No offers of sympathies or condolences, just a calmness as the bench swayed slowly back and forth.

"What can I do for you Sheriff?" she finally asked.

"Nothing. I just wanted to check in. See how you're holding up." he responded.

"I'm fine, really." Michonne stared blankly at her feet. She was not fine. She wanted Andre. "I'll be alright." she added.

"You're not, but yes, you will be." he said definitively.

Michonne looked at Rick, who was staring out into the yard. There was no emotion on his face. How could he be so sure? He did not know her from a hole in the wall but here he was giving his assurances. It was a welcomed change, because for just split second she believed him. There was a sense of calm that washed over Michonne, she looked back out in the yard.

"He was only 7 years old. Seven." she said almost in a whisper.

Rick just nodded his head. He did not do well at funerals. He never had a way with words, but he felt compelled to come and see Michonne today. Since the accident he could not stop thinking about her or her son. There was an aura of loneliness that followed her, one that he knew all too well. One that was probably there before she lost her son, her entire world. Rick could not imagine life without his children because that would not be life at all.

They sat on the bench, lightly swinging back and forth silently for a good while. Michonne was grateful for the quiet, for no accusing stares, no bible verses, no everything was going to be okay. Just quiet. The day left her exhausted and it was not before long that she dozed off, her head falling to rest on the Sheriff's shoulder.

After some time, Rick lightly tapped her awake.

"Michonne?" he said softly.

She woke up, embarrassed that she had fallen asleep. The afternoon sky was beginning to fade into dusk.

"I should be going now."

Michonne nodded, and Rick stood up. He went to the door then stopped and handed her a card with his number on it.

"Just... if you need it." he said simply.

Michonne nodded and looked out into the yard again. She heard the door shut and with it all the pain rushing back.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Whoa! You guys! I'm completely floored by the reception I got on here. I was nervous about putting stuff on here, but you guys have been so positive and have given me the ultimate confidence boost. Thank you for your reviews:**_

 _ **siancore: you inspired me to write so thank you!**_

 _ **code: co-parenting is complicated, but Michonne is on it!**_

 _ **courtgirl: yes Rick does have that calming effect, it will be interesting to see how their relationship develops.**_

 _ **Yari: Mike is ummm... yeah, Mike. You'll get a glimpse of Lori in this chapter.**_

 _ **Jacki: Lori is in here somewhere! :)**_

 _ **To kdthle / MichonneGalaxy / SBK / RichonneSlag / Lobster / Kam / Guestz / simple1234 / and Guests and everyone else, Thank you guys so much for your reviews. They help me tremendously. I know this story is sad, I was sad writing it. It will continue to be a little sad, but I promise there is light at the end of the tunnel. Now I hope you enjoy the next chapter...**_

* * *

Andrea entered Michonne's home using the spare key she had hidden in the flower pot on the front porch. It has been three weeks since Andre's funeral. She stayed

for a couple of days after, but needed to return back to work. Andrea would call Michonne during the weeks and it would take about five tries to finally get through.

Michonne would assure her that she was alright and doing fine, but she did not believe her friend for one second over the phone. She hated that she had to move so

far away for work.

The house was dark and covered with a veil of lifelessness. It did not feel like a home, but more like a tomb. Nothing looked used or out of place since the last time

she was there three weeks ago. The only difference was all the curtains were drawn blocking out the bright spring day outside. Andrea walked through to the kitchen.

There was nothing in the sink but a used bowl and spoon. She opened the refrigerator and was met with a potent odor. All the food from Andre's funeral reception

was still wrapped in the refrigerator undisturbed, like she and Michonne's mother, left it. A film of fungus was growing on the casserole and the chicken was spoiled.

The potatoes were growing mold and the greens did not even look like food anymore. Andrea rolled up her sleeves and found a garbage bag underneath the kitchen

sink. She disposed of all the food in the refrigerator and wiped the shelves clean. She really needed to get her friend out of this prison.

Andrea made her way to Michonne's bedroom. It was even darker than the rest of the house. There was no way to know that it was bright noon on a clear spring

morning. The blinds were shut, and Andrea could see that Michonne changed her light green curtains, and opted for her thick black ones. The gray comforter on the

bed was bunched in the middle hiding Michonne's body from view.

"Michonne?" Andrea called out. The comforter shifted.

Andrea walked to the window and pulled back the curtains, opened the blinds, letting in a sharp flood of light, illuminating the entire room.

Michonne groaned and recoiled deeper into her comforter.

"Michonne, we have to get you out of this cave." Andrea commanded.

She ignored her friend. Michonne had no desire to do anything but sleep.

"Babe, you can't stay here forever no matter how badly you want to." she tried to reason. Andrea tugged at the comforter, revealing her friend underneath.

Michonne lost a significant amount weight since Andrea last saw her. She was one to work out at least three times a week. If she could not get in the gym she was

active, running around with Andre or doing sit-ups before bed. Now, where there used to be toned muscles in her arms, were now just flabs of skin. Andrea was sure

her friend had not moved from this spot in a long while. Even her cheeks were sunken in. It was a sad and startling sight for Andrea who has never seen her friend in

this manner.

"You need to get out Michonne. I won't take no for an answer. Look at yourself!" she cried out to her. Her voice cracked with her emotions breaking through.

Michonne did not want to look at herself. Of course she looked terrible. It was just the outside reflecting how she felt within. Michonne shut her eyes and hugged one

of her pillows tighter, not having the energy to get up at all.

Andrea had to do something to get her friend out of bed so she said the only thing that she could think of that would get the desired effect.

"Andre would not even recognize you."

It worked. Michonne's eyes darted open. She looked at her best friend with fire in her eyes. Why would she bring up Andre knowing how badly it hurt? Just as quickly

as her anger arose, it was taken over by sadness. She sat up and looked through the mirror that was positioned facing toward her bed. The reflection she saw staring

back at her was one that even she did not recognize. Her skin was as dull as her sheets. If she had any tears left she would cry. Michonne looked back at her friend

Andrea, who enveloped her in a huge embrace.

Andrea brushed the dreadlocks that were blocking her best friend's face. "How about we go out just for a little. Nowhere crowded. We'll do a little shopping, get a bite

to eat, then come straight home. What do you say?"

Michonne looked back at her reflection in the mirror. Andrea was right. Andre would run the other way at the sight of her.

"I need to shower." Michonne murmured.

Andrea beamed with excitement. For Michonne, the feeling was not mutual.

* * *

Andrea decided to drive toward King County instead of downtown Atlanta. It would be less crowded on this spring day, and not too overwhelming for her friend.

Michonne did not object although she was apprehensive about returning to the place so close to where her son died. Andrea took care to take a longer route around

so they would not pass the crash site.

They entered the town, driving down main street. It really did have that small town charm that Mike would rave about. What he said was lost in the city, that "je ne

sais quoi". People were outside, greeting one another with smiles, all friendly. It made Michonne's stomach turn. How could everyone elses' life go on when her's was

in complete shambles. A woman was walking with her son, he was eating an ice cream cone very intently, not a care in the world, but to make sure he tasted every

last drop. Until one day he gets in a car and some asshole hits it head on and his life is over. Michonne was beginning to think coming outside was a mistake.

Andrea parked the car and for the first hour Michonne was just following her lead. Andrea stopped in almost every shop buying something she did not need in each.

She must have spent two hundred dollars in the first hour alone. She is a big shot lawyer so Michonne supposed she could afford it. After a while, they came upon a

small boutique. Michonne found it endearing. The decor was colorfully eccentric and Michonne was big on color. Inside they were greeted by a young pretty brunette.

"Hey ya'll! Welcome! Come on in and look around." she greeted Michonne and Andrea with a huge smile.

The shop was filled with unique clothes, handmade, which was typical Michonne style. If someone else had it, she did not want it. She was actually surprised to find

such items in a town such as this. She expected only cowboy boots and plaid shirts.

"My name's Maggie. If you need anything, please let me know."

Andrea and Michonne nodded their heads at the young sales woman. Andrea went off to look around and Michonne walked over to a rack of skirts. They were long

and flowing. Really beautiful fabric, the colors vibrant. It was the kind of skirt that Andre used to love her to wear. Long skirts that blew in the wind, reminded him of

a superhero cape. He would follow her around and play with it, calling her superwoman. Michonne picked up one of the skirts in a sky blue color. Blue was Andre's

favorite. She made her way to the counter to pay.

"This is lovely. One of my favorites. It is going to look great on you." Maggie complimented.

Michonne gave her a smile as best she could.

"You'll be getting a lot of male attention in it too!" she laughed.

Andrea and Michonne continued to shop a little longer, and with each passing minute Michonne felt a little more like herself. She even laughed when she watched

Andrea try on a hideous yellow dress, tiered with feathers.

"You look like Big Bird reincarnate." she teased.

The two best friends finished their shopping and decided to stop for a bite to eat at one of the small diners in town. Michonne did not realize how hungry she was until

she actually stepped into the place. Her stomach rumbled at the site of the apple pie on the counter. They caught a booth in the back of the diner by the window and

ordered some lunch.

The food came, Michonne ordered a burger and fries while Andrea watched her figure by ordering a ceasar salad. Michonne wanted to tell her with all the dressing she

has on it, she was sort of defeating the purpose, but instead she let her friend shine.

Halfway through their meals, Michonne decided to ask the question that has been in the back of her mind since they arrived in King County, "Have you heard anything

about Mike?"

Andrea stopped eating her food. She shot Michonne an incredoulous look. She did not want to talk about Mike. She hated talking about him before the accident and

she wanted to talk about him even less so after, but Michonne did have a right to know, and talking is the first step to healing she supposed.

"I haven't heard much, except he is still comatose, but stable."

Michonne did not respond. Instead, she got lost in herself. Since the accident she did a lot of thinking, reliving that night over and over. Andre's lacerated face

haunted her dreams. Mike's last conversation replayed in her head.

"You okay?" Andrea said, bringing her back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Michonne replied, all of a sudden not too hungry anymore.

Andrea finished her meal, while Michonne absently pushed her fries around the plate, next to her half eaten burger.

"I'll go pull the car up." Andrea said when she was done, digging in her purse to pay for the meal.

"No I got it." Michonne said.

"Girl, please, my treat."

"No, Andrea, you've done so much. Please. Let me get this." Michonne insisted. Her friend had been so good to her today and though she would not like to admit it,

she did have a rather good time.

"Fine." Andrea said scrunching her face at her friend. "See you out front." Andrea left the booth and out the front door.

Michonne got the money out of her purse and left it on the table. She gathered her bags and exited the booth. Just as she was reaching the door she was greeted by

a familiar face. This time, no brown Sheriff's uniform accompanied it.

"Hi." he said. His face lighting up at the sight of her, and just one look at him, that entire night flashed back through her mind.

"Sheriff Grimes." she uttered.

"Call me Rick." he offered her a small smile. "How are you? You look well." Of course she looked a little more frail than he last remembered, but it was best not to

point that out.

Michonne did not know how to answer that question so she elected not to say anything.

Realizing the situation was growing a little uncomfortable, Rick continued, "Well, it was nice to see you again."

Michonne nodded and put her sunglasses back on, quickly exiting the diner. She took a deep breath and stood outside waiting for Andrea. For some reason she felt

embarrassed to run into Rick. He had seen her at her worst and she could not imagine how she must have looked to him now. After Andre's funeral she wanted to call

him. She felt drawn to him, his presence on the porch that night felt so comforting, even now she wanted to talk to him, confide in him, but she had no words. She

turned back and looked through the window of the diner. He was getting his food and he turned. Their eyes met again for a moment, but Andrea had pulled up,

grabbing Michonne's attention away.

* * *

Rick watched Michonne leave the diner and enter her friends car. He thought about her ever since they last spoke at her son's funeral. Many times he wanted to call

and check on her. He had her number in the accident report. It would have been easy enough to look up, but he felt that would be invading her privacy. He gave her

his number after all, if she wanted to talk to him she would. He could tell just by looking at her that she was not doing too good. He said she looked well, and she did,

he could see some weight loss but what really got his attention was that same sadness and loneliness was still hovering over her like a dark cloud. He felt the urge to

help her through it.

Rick grabbed his food and headed back to his car.

He dug out his cell phone and dialed. Three rings before it was picked up. "Hello? How are you?"

 _"Fine."_

"Carl and Judith?"

 _"They're fine."_

"I bought food, can I come over?"

 _"Now is not a good time."_

"Well, when is a good time?"

 _"How about five months earlier, better yet 5 years, Rick."_

"Lori..."

 _"You'll see them next week. Bye Rick."_

"..."

Call ended.

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh. Feeling defeated , he put the car in drive. He'd figure the guys at the station were probably

hungry, anyway.

* * *

Andrea was about to turn on the highway to leave King County.

"Wait." Michonne shot out.

"What's wrong?" Andrea said startled, she veered the car over to the side of the road and put the car in park.

"I want to see him."

"See who?" Andrea was looking at her friend like she lost her mind.

"Mike." Michonne answered plainly.

Now Andrea was really looking at her friend like she lost her mind. She was not a fan of Mike, even when he and Michonne were together. He would take advantage

of Michonne and for a long time she let him, despite Andrea's objections. Andrea and Michonne attended undergrad together where they met. They both got

accepted into the same law school after they graduated. Michonne was the head of their class, would have made partner in no time at any law firm, but law was not

her passion. Instead, it was art. Michonne had a knack for finding beauty in everything. She was supremely talented to everyone except Mike. He would always tell

her to get her head out of the clouds and focus on law. Andrea presumed it was because of the money she would stand to make, but there was no telling Michonne

that. She was head over heels in love. She was irritated when Michonne told her she was pregnant with Andre. She knew he would be no good, but Michonne insisted

she was happy, and Andre was the joy of her life, so she supported her friend. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Michonne was absolutely sure.

* * *

Andrea pulled up in front of King County Hospital. Michonne noticed that the building looked different in the daylight. There were nurses smiling outside, taking their

smoke breaks, like people were not dying inside.

"Stay here." Michonne said. "I'll only be a little."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come up?" her friend extended.

"Certain." Michonne exited the car and entered the building.

Mike was on the third floor. Intensive care unit. When Michonne walked into the room, Mike's father, Frank was sitting on the chair, bedside. His head in a TIME

magazine. Mike's mother died a year before Andre was born. It was a tough time for him, and he and Michonne got a lot closer during it.

Michonne turned her attention to the still body lying on the bed. Mike was hooked up to all types of machines and tubes working overtime to keep him alive.

"Michonne?" Frank said looking over the magazine. His reading glasses had slipped down his nose as he peered over his frames. "Oh my! Michonne! How are you

doing, baby?" he almost jumped up from his seat to greet her at the door.

"I'm doing all right Frank, how are you holding up?" she said pulling him in for a hug.

Frank had always been good to her. To Andre as well. One of her biggest heartbreaks when she and Mike broke up was essentially having to break up with Frank too.

"As best as I can right now." he admitted.

"And how's he?" She said, turning her attention to Mike on the bed.

"He showed some brain activity, but they said that's normal. Nothing has really changed in his status. Still critical. Just been praying."

Michonne nodded in understanding. "Do you think I can get a moment alone with him?"

"Absolutely. Take all the time you need." He said giving her another another hug and kiss on her forehead. "I'm going to go to the cafe and get a bite to eat. Can I get

you something?"

"No thank you. I just ate." She answered. Frank left the room, leaving her alone with Mike.

Michonne stared at Mike. He looked awful. Tubes coming out his nose, mouth, and veins. He was absolutely powerless. Michonne sat in the seat next to the bed

Frank had been occupying when she walked in. She brought her hand to Mike's and held it, an IV was attached to it, filling him with all manners of fluid. His hand

was clammy, but still full of life. Not cold like she expected it to be. She could practically feel ever bone in his hand. She moved her hand up his arm, all his muscles

atrophied.

Michonne, standing now, examined his face. She took in all the cuts that were cleaned and treated. He was still bruised from the accident over his right eye. Mike's

beard had grown thicker, patchy in some places. Michonne touched his forehead gently, then brought her face to his for a closer look. He was a completely different

man than she remembered, only three weeks ago. She brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, "I hate you."

The heart rate monitor was releasing a steady beep.

She moved her hand to the tube that was supplying oxygen. Wrapping her hand around, she made a tight fist.

"You do not deserve to live."

Michonne gripped tighter around the tube, her eyebrows creased angrily, as she zoned in on Mike.

"You killed my son."

The heart rate monitor began to beep more rapidly. She saw his eyes twitching underneath his lids. She hoped he heard her.

"Just fucking die already!" she commanded ruthlessly.

The heart rate monitor went off, signaling the nurses station. Michonne released her grip from the tube and backed away from Mike. Two nurses rushed in and began

tending to Mike.

Michonne felt her emotions threaten to get the best of her so she headed for the exit. Frank was running to the room as she was leaving. He looked at Michonne, her

eyes were hard and cold. She quickly puts her shades on, walking past him hastily. Frank watched her as she head toward the elevator. Heartbroken, but oblivious to

how much she wants his son dead.

* * *

Andrea drove Michonne home. She tried to engage her friend in conversation after she came down from seeing Mike, but Michonne was completely silent. Her mind

clearly elsewhere. Andrea thought it best to not pry. Michonne would confide in her eventually. They said their goodbyes shortly after reaching Michonne's home,

Andrea was due for work on Monday.

"Thanks for today." Michonne said to her best friend as she readied to pull off from her driveway.

"Michonne, I love you. You will be okay." Andrea blew her a kiss and drove off.

Michonne brewed some tea and and sat on the couch in the living room. She turned on the tv for the first time in three weeks, the channel left on cartoons, left from

when Andre had last watched it. Everywhere she turned she saw her son. Everything was a constant reminder of what she lost. Michonne quickly turned it off,

drinking her tea in silence.

Hours passed and Michonne still sat on the couch. It was quiet literally the next day, 2 a.m. to be exact and she had not left her position. She was completely lost.

For three weeks she could just sleep it off, but tonight sleep seemed to be evading her. Her mind was flooded with thoughts of pain and regret. Michonne thought of

what Andrea said to her when she left.

 _You will be okay._

"How?" she asked herself.

How long would it actually be until she would be okay? She searched her mind for the last time she actually believed she would. Immediately she thought of

her back porch. Sitting next to Rick Grimes. Seeing him at the diner stunned her, but the truth was she was happy to have seen him. Happy that he remembered her.

Michonne finally vacated the spot on the couch that she had been occupying for hours. She went into her bedroom and found what she was looking for amidst her

crowded dresser. Rick's phone number. Michonne returned to the couch and stared at the card in her hand. Contemplating.

* * *

Rick lay in his bed looking up at the plain view of the ceiling. Sleep had always come hard for him due to his work hours, but now being alone in his home, it was

virtually impossible. It has been 8 months since Lori packed her things and left with the kids. Before he was too occupied to notice the ugly popcorn finish on his

ceiling, now it bothered him immensely. In fact the entire decor of the room bothered him. Lori did all the decorating and he had not changed anything since she had

gone, still hoping eventually she would come back.

Rick closed his eyes when his phone began to vibrate on the end table next to his bed. He grabbed it quickly.

"Must be work." he thought. It was not unusual for him to get called for work in the middle of the night.

The number on the screen was one he did not recognize. He answered curiously.

"Hello?"

 _"..."_

There was no sound, but he knew someone was there. He could hear breathing.

"Who is this?" he asked again, propping himself up on his elbow.

 _"...Rick?"_

Rick promptly sat up at the sound of her voice, "Michonne... what's wrong?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Thanks for the love and support! It really means the world to me! Sorry it took so long for this one, but I promise you won't have to wait too long for the next (That is, if you actually want more). It is a little lengthy, but I wanted to get all this stuff out in order to move the story forward. I hope you like!**

* * *

The sound of heavy rainfall against the bedroom window pane stirred Rick awake from his deep sleep. He did not remember the moment he dozed off talking to Michonne, or rather listening to her, but he was sure it was somewhere between 5 and 6 am because dawn was just breaking through. She called him, sounding very desperate and despairing. Rick could not ignore. There was just something about her. Without needing her to go into detail, he surmised that something happened when she saw Mike, her son's father, who was still in the hospital, and to his knowledge, still in a coma.

Rick stretched his body, turning his head to notice that his phone was still on his pillow, the call still connected. Michonne must have fallen asleep as well.

"Hello?"

When he got no answer he ended the call. The time on his phone read 11 am. He definitely had a good rest. Falling asleep with someone else would do that.

* * *

Without needing to open her eyes, Michonne knew she fell asleep on the couch. The pain in her muscles was evidence enough. Checking her phone she saw that the time was already pushing noon. Michonne recalled her conversation with Rick last night.

 _"...Rick?"_

 _"Michonne...what's wrong?"_

 _"..."_

 _"Michonne?"_

 _"...I don't really know why I'm calling."_

 _"That's alright. I'm up."_

 _"I saw Mike today and I..."_

 _"Talk to me."_

 _"I feel so alone."_

 _"I'm here."_

Slowly, but surely, her words began to flow out like a stream. She conveyed her feelings, about Mike and blaming him for Andre. He did not try to tell her she was wrong for feeling the way she did. Instead, he just listened, he was so easy to talk to. At some point she just stopped talking and he was still there, calling her name every couple of minutes. Soon enough she fell asleep. Dreamless.

Rubbing her shoulder muscles, Michonne made her way to the kitchen and fixed herself a bowl of cereal. Bringing it with her, she entered her study for the first time in a while. She opened her laptop. Her inbox was full of emails, from friends, family, work and the occasional spam. One caught her eye, it was red flagged for importance from her publisher. A new project was available to her, if she wanted it, but they needed an answer by noon today. Michonne hit a quick reply accepting the job. It would be good to get back into work.

Michonne cleaned out her inbox. Already she felt lighter. She moved on to the entire house, dusting and scrubbing, changing the linens, and opting for curtains that allowed more light. Her home was beginning to look more like it, instead of the dungeon she had been living in.

Lastly, she entered Andre's room. It was still just the way he left it. Toys thrown about. His bed was made, but his hamper half full with dirty clothes Michonne meant to wash on the weekend he was gone. She slowly walked inside the room, but was promptly faced with a flood of emotions welling up inside her. She felt suffocated and immediately left the room. It was too much, too soon.

* * *

The next day, Rick was back at work.

"So whatd'ya do this weekend?" Shane asked sitting on the edge of Rick's desk in his office. Shane Walsh was a deputy of King County, Rick's partner and more importantly his best friend. They have known each other since they were in middle school, both growing up in King County. He was the best man at Rick's wedding. Shane knew everything about him.

"Nothing much." Rick, his phone conversation with Michonne popping into his head. That having been the highlight of his weekend. It was a shame really.

"And how's Lori?" he inquired.

Rick looked at his friend with an obvious look. "What do you think?"

"Right, right." Shane said, nodding knowingly.

"I don't know what to do about her. She is not the same woman I fell in love with." Rick confided.

"I'm sure you're not the same man, either." Shane responded in return. "Just give it time. She'll come around."

Rick looked at Shane nodding in agreement, though he was not sure if he shared in his optimism. "Have you spoken to her lately?"

"I ran into her at the market, but that's about it." Shane answered. Even though Rick and Lori were married, all three of them were very close. Rick knew Shane had a soft spot for Lori, so when they separated it affected his partner as well, leaving him somewhat caught in the middle.

Shane was about to continue the conversation when he turned his head toward the door of the station. Someone was catching his attention. Shane hopped of the desk and headed to the front of the station.

Michonne stood at the entrance looking around for Rick. She was wearing a pink silk top with navy blue pants. She wore a pair of beige pumps and her hair was swept to the side topped off with a pink flower for flair, actually putting some effort in her outfit today.

She walked up to the female officer at the front desk, "Hi, I'm here to see..."

"The name's Deputy Walsh, you can call me Shane. How may I help you ma'am?"

Michonne gazed at the young officer who just walked up. Thick dark brown curls and a smile that she was sure worked on all the women in this town. He radiated confidence, but not without a hint of arrogance.

"Hello. I am looking for Sheriff Grimes, please."

As if on cue, Rick stepped up from behind Shane. He flashed a courteous smile, "Hey, Michonne, right this way." He motioned her toward his office.

Michonne smiled, walking around the desk feeling Shane's eyes follow her as she followed Rick to his office. Rick closed the door once they were inside. She could see through the glass that Shane was still watching her, a large grin on his face.

Rick sat down at his desk and watched as Michonne surveyed his office.

She noticed the wall was full of accolades and pictures of him with the mayor and other officials. One in which he is receiving a medal, of bravery or something like that she had no doubt. Michonne came upon a picture sitting on his desk. She picked it up to examine it. In it was three people. A pretty long haired brunette, and two children. One boy, close to Andre's age, and another young baby girl. Each sporting large smiles.

"Your children?" Michonne asked finally looking at Rick. She realized that he knew a lot about her, but she knew nothing of him.

"Yeah. Carl, he is ten now, and Judith, she's three."

"They're beautiful." Michonne responded. She tried not to bring the mood down, but she could not help but think of Andre. The picture of the young boy, so happy reminded her of his innocent smile.

She studied the woman in the picture. It was clear to see that it was their mother, the boy was a split image of her.

"...and your wife?" Michonne asked again.

"Um..." Rick paused. "Yeah." he finally said.

Michonne let out a breath, one that she did not realize she was holding. She took a quick glance at his left hand and indeed there was a gold band gracing his ring finger. She flashed a small smile at Rick, then returned the photo to its rightful place on his desk, trying to hide her disappointment. She had no idea why she thought he would be single. It was not like she thought about it, or that she was looking for anyone, but even still she felt herself a little let down.

"Well, I just wanted to come over to thank you for the other night...well morning." she said with a shy smile.

"It was no problem Michonne, I was glad to. To be honest, it was the first time in a long time that I slept so well. How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm alright. I just brought you some lunch. I didn't know what you'd like so I brought you a sandwich, a hamburger, and a salad." She said placing the plastic bag she had been holding on his desk.

Rick smiled at her thoughtfulness. Finding it delightfully charming.

"Well, I'll be going now." She said walking to the door. "You don't have to eat all that by the way, I'm sure your friend up front would not mind helping you out."

"Thank you, Michonne."

"Thank you, Rick."

Rick watched Michonne as she left his office. Shane passed her, tipping his head, then walked back to Rick's office. Rick already preparing for what he was about to bring his way.

"Who is that!?" Shane said enthusiastically.

Rick looked at his friend with suspicion. "She is the mother of the little boy that died in that head on collision a few weeks back."

"Rick, are you hitting that?" he questioned accusingly.

Rick's face painted with annoyance, "No, Shane I'm not. It's not like that."

"Good, because that would be unprofessional." Shane grinned, "Me on the other hand..."

Rick rolled his eyes. Shane could be a bit crass sometimes.

Noticing he was hitting a nerve with Rick, Shane changed the subject off of Michonne. "So what are you doing for the rest of the day?" he inquired.

"I'm going to surprise Carl and pick him up from school before I have to return for the night shift. Probably take him to the park and throw the pigskin around, get some ice cream." He thought happily of the quality time he was about to spend with his son. "That reminds me. I have to call Lori and let her know before she freaks out on me." Rick said.

Shane nodded his head. "Alright. I'm going to be gone for the rest of the day, meeting up with a lady friend."

"Take a lunch to go, just in case that lady friend of yours doesn't cook." Rick replied sarcastically.

"Don't mind if I do." Shane grinned digging in the plastic bag Michonne had left.

* * *

Michonne left the Sheriff's station gratified. The entire day seemed to be going well, and it all started with her phone conversation with Rick. That feeling would prove not to last much longer when Michonne's cell phone began to ring. It was the hospital. Mike was awake.

* * *

Rick sat in his cruiser outside of Carl's school. He had been trying to call Lori, since lunch, but it kept going to voicemail.

"Dad!"

Rick looked up to see his son racing toward his car. His hair flying in the wind and his face full of elation.

"Hey Carl!"

Rick exited the car and beamed at the sight of his oldest running toward him. It killed him that he could not see him on a regular basis, hoping that would change soon.

"You're picking me up today?" Carl asked as he got closer.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Rick playfully retorted.

"What about Mom?" he continued.

"I tried calling her, she didn't pick up, but I left a message. It will be okay." He replied.

Carl climbed into the police cruiser and Rick hopped back in behind the wheel.

"Got homework?" he asked.

"Just math."

"Math can wait, how about some football?" Rick smiled.

Carl beamed, "Yes!"

Rick drove off heading to the park.

* * *

"Your coffee ma'am." The waitress placed the cup in front of Michonne, who thanked her without looking at her face. She stared at the steam coming off the top, contemplating on what she should do.

The nurse at the hospital phoned her telling her Mike woke up approximately three hours ago. He is responsive and alert, though still very weak. The last time she saw him she almost killed him. She was still so angry at him, at the entire situation, so she took a sip of her coffee and sat in the the diner booth, milling it over.

* * *

The sun was high at the park but the cool breeze rustling through the trees helped relieve some of the heat. Rick tossed the football to his son, who caught it effortlessly, then tossed it back.

"So..." Rick said, "How's school going?" Continuing to toss the ball.

"Its okay, I hate social studies. It is too hard. Everything else is easy."

"Well, you are going to have to work harder on you social studies. It is important. What does your Mom think?"

Carl stopped throwing the ball, then continued. "I don't think she knows. She doesn't ask. We spend a lot of time with Grandma now, and she tries to help."

Rick swallowed hard. Lori was keeping his kids away from him, but shipping them away to her parents when he has been practically begging for time with them. He tried to not show his distaste in front of Carl, that is the last thing he wanted to do. He thought about getting the courts involved, but that would only cause him more grief as well as the kids. Besides, he knew deep down he wanted things to work out between Lori and himself.

Rick nodded his head at his son, who was now frowning.

"When are you coming back home, Dad?" he asked, resuming to toss the ball at his father. "You said it was only going to be for a little while. That you and Mom just needed some space. Haven't you guys had enough?"

Rick felt horrible. It was hard enough on him, but he underestimated how much the split was effecting his children. "Soon, Carl." Was all he could say in response.

"You taking care of Judith?" Rick asked trying to lighten the mood. He knew how much Carl loved being a big brother.

"Yeah I am. Not changing her diapers though." Carl made a disgusted face causing Rick to chuckle.

Carl began tossing the football back to his father.

"You looking forward to our fishing trip on Saturday?" Rick asked.

"Yes I can't wait!" The young boy exclaimed. That smile Rick loved so much returning. "I need a new fishing line though, my old one broke."

"No worries, I'm going to get us all new gear." Rick assured.

"I can't wait for it to just be us hanging out. You, me, and Judy. It is going to be so great."

"It sure is." Rick stated happily. "Now how about some ice cream?"

* * *

Rick watched his son out the corner of his eye. He was reading one of his comic books and finishing up the last bit of his ice cream cone. "Which one is that?" Rick asked, pointing to the comic.

"Aquaman." Carl answered. "He's cool. He can breathe underwater, talk to fish and everything."

Rick nodded his head. He had little interest in comics, but he was glad his son had something he was so enthusiastic about.

They were driving back to the home that Lori was residing in. It was a small property that belonged to her parents just on the outskirts of King County.

Rick pulled up to the front of the house. "See you this weekend."

Carl reached over and gave his father a long hug. He left the car and ran to the house. Lori was there to greet him, wearing her silk robe and towel drying her hair. Fresh out the shower, Rick surmised. She looked beautiful. He left is cruiser to greet her at the door.

"I called you." He said walking up, "It went to voicemail."

"I got it." Lori said blankly. She continued to towel dry her hair, waiting for Rick to continue.

Shaking his head, he continued. "So, I'll pick the kids up Friday night, around 7. We are going up to Lake Vdali on Saturday."

"They'll be ready."

Rick had no idea what he had done that caused her to be so short with him.

"Alright, Well I have to head back to the station."

"I'm sure you do." Lori quipped back. She lingered in the doorway for a moment then closed the door.

Rick let out an exasperated sigh and headed back to his cruiser and to the station.

* * *

Michonne was still in the diner when the sun went down. Customers came and went. After five cups of coffee, three bathroom visits, and a piece of apple pie, she came to a final decision. She wanted answers. She wanted to know.

Michonne made her way to the hospital and walked into Mike's room. He was sitting up, watching the television that hung from the ceiling. Frank was still there of course, watching the television as well along with his son. He looked much better than when she last seen him. It made her bitter, unfortunately. If she was thinking correctly, or even just rationally, she would have ran the other way because again she felt her temperature rising. Frank and Mike watching TV together made her resentful. She and Andre would never again be able to share in such an common pastime. There was one reason for that, and the only reason she could think of was lying right in that bed.

Michonne walked further in the room, and both Frank and Mike finally noticed her presence. She offered them no expression. Her eyes glued on Mike who was now staring right back at her. Frank warily moved over to meet Michonne, the last time he saw her, her face was much the same. Angry.

Mike met Michonne's glare. He stared at the lines on her face, the scowl was the likes in which he had never seen before. His face grew sullen. He knew what she must of thought. How angry she was with him. Nothing compared to how angry he was with himself. Michonne could see the emotional turmoil as Mike stared right back at her, but she did not care. She did not care that he lost his son just as well as she did. All she saw was red.

Almost choking on his words Mike began, "Mich...I..."

Not allowing him to finish, she lunged at him causing him to flinch back into his bed. Frank intercepted her, blocking her path to Mike. She did not care how weak he was, how sick, she wanted to choke the life out of him. He did not deserve to be here. Not when her son wasn't. Not when he was buried six feet under in the cold, dark earth.

* * *

While Michonne was down the hall dealing with her own indignation, Rick was in the hospital talking to one of the nurses. He had been taking a statement from a woman in regards to a domestic dispute that landed her in the hospital with a broken arm and bruised face. Rick hated pieces of shit husbands especially when he did all that he could to try and be a good one.

Catching his attention was the loud commotion coming from down the hall. He looked up and saw some nurses and hospital personnel heading in that direction. Pausing his discussion with the nurse, he followed to investigate what was causing the disturbance. He reached his destination to find Michonne yelling, attempting to get at Mike, nurses in her face, pulling at her trying to keep her away. The calm, cool and collected woman he saw earlier was nowhere to be found.

Rick pushed through the crowd, "Get off of her." He commanded to the nurses pulling at her.

He picked up Michonne, as she was flailing her arms still trying to get away. He carried her out the room and down the hall.

"Let go of me, Rick!" Michonne cried.

"Michonne you have to calm down." he said, his tone stern and forceful.

"Get off of me!" She pushed her way out of his grasp and made her way to the elevators and out of the hospital.

Rick was left standing there, while nurses and patients looked on, wondering what caused the woman to snap. He wanted to go after her, but he thought against it. She needed to cool off. He returned to Mike's room to make sure he was okay, and hopefully that he would not want to press charges.

* * *

Michonne was in her home, having cooled down after a glass of wine and a good cry. Her anger was getting the best of her and she knew it. Never in her life had she acted so unreasonably and she was embarrassed for it. Andre was her only son. Her baby, her pride and joy. For seven years he had been her entire life. When she and Mike broke up, the greatest thing that came from their relationship was Andre. She felt like an entire part of her was missing and it made it hard to function. It made it hard for her to think straight. She did not understand how she would be able to move on from this. Every time she took two steps forward, she would take one step back.

Michonne retrieved her cellphone from her pocket, dialing Andrea's number. It went to voicemail. She disconnected, not bothering to leave a message.

After a moment to her thoughts, her phone began to ring. Probably Andrea returning her call, she thought. But it wasn't Andrea, on the screen it read, Rick Grimes.

She considered not answering. Not only did Michonne feel bad for screaming at him, she felt ashamed.

"Hello?"

 _"Hello, Michonne... this is Rick, Rick Grimes from the Sheriff's Department."_

"Yes, I know Rick." She wondered why he was being so formal with her. Then it dawned on her that she assaulted Mike. Her palms suddenly got sweaty.

 _"Right. You okay? You know, after the hospital and everything?"_

Michonne hesitated, recalling how she must have looked to him, "I'm sorry about that. I just...", sighing she tried to find an explanation or any word that could possibly convey how she felt.

As if hearing he thoughts, Rick bailed her out. _"You don't have to apologize. I can't imagine how you must be feeling. You also do not need to give an explanation to anyone, especially not me."_ he offered.

Michonne felt relieved. He did not judge her for the insane outburst, nor did he pretend to understand.

"Is he going to press charges?" Michonne asked. If he did not want to, Frank probably most certainly did.

 _"No. Mike decided against it. You don't have to worry about that."_

She nodded her head, despite Rick not being able to see her. One less thing she had to worry about. A casual silence permeated between them. After a moments time, Rick spoke up.

 _"Listen, I was thinking. I don't know if you're busy this weekend, but I'm going on a fishing trip at one of my favorite lakes up north. I like to go there to get away from everything and forget about what's going on with my life... with my family..."_ Rick waited to see if she would interrupt him, but when she did not, he continued, _"...Well, I'm going up there this weekend, Saturday, with my kids, and I think it would be good for you, if you'd like."_

Michonne was unsure of how to answer. Spending time with Rick seemed like a good idea. He understood her in a way no one else had been able to do. He relaxed her without needing to say much. A getaway would be nice, but her going would feel much like an intrusion on his family time.

"I'll think about it." she settled on.

 _"Alright. That's good. I'll text you my address if you decide on joining us."_ He waited before continuing, _"Michonne... You're still going to be okay."_ he said.

Michonne not sure if she still believed it. "Thank you for calling." she said and ended the call.

* * *

Michonne sat in her car outside of Rick's home. The monotone voice of the radio broadcaster playing in her car just announced the time, 5:05 on the early Saturday morning. She was still unsure if she should actually be attending this trip. There was still time to drive back without Rick knowing.

She was about to change her mind when a young brown haired boy Michonne recognized from the picture on Rick's desk, ran out of the home holding a fisherman's box. He looked animated and excited, a lot of excitement for five in the morning, she thought to herself. The boy noticed her straightaway.

"Too late to turn back now." she said aloud to the empty car.

Michonne put the car in park and got out. She gave a small wave to the young boy who was looking at her, his face riddled with confusion wondering who she was and why she was there. She opened the backseat door and pulled out a picnic basket that she prepared, as well as her own crochet tote bag.

Michonne was making her way to the front door, when Rick stepped out carrying two fishing poles. His tired face immediately lit up at the sight of her. He promptly took in her appearance. Her hair was in a high ponytail, he never saw it like that and right away decided he liked it. Being able to see her entire face was a welcomed change than how she usually wore her hair. She wore a yellow sundress that ended right above her knees and a floral cardigan.

"Michonne, I'm so glad you could make it." Rick greeted. He tried to tone down his eagerness as to not let on how happy he actually was that she decided to come. It was probably best she did not know how he was up all night just thinking about it.

Michonne tried to match his enthusiasm, extending a smile, "I brought coffee." She said, pulling a thermos out of her picnic basket. "I have orange juice, too. For the kids, if they want." She looked at Carl who had a scowl on his face that put her own to shame.

"Thank you so much." he said taking it from her. "This is my son Carl." he said motioning to the boy next to him. "Carl, say hello."

Carl stood next to his father looking at Michonne with distrust. It was exactly what Andre would do when he would meet strangers for the first time, Michonne noted.

"Hi." He said dismissively then ran back into the home.

"Maybe I shouldn't be here." Michonne observed.

"No, you should." Rick said firmly. " I'll take that." He took her bags from her and loaded it into his truck.

* * *

Rick pulled into a small parking lot just as the sun was beginning to rise. The morning dew still visible on the leaves. They all filed out of the truck, Rick grabbed Judith from her car seat, passing her to her older brother. He and Michonne grabbed their gear and headed to the lakeside.

Once they cleared the trees, Michonne was overwhelmed by the scenic view. Rick took a moment to watch her face as she digested their surroundings. Rick recalled the first time he took in the amazing view. The countless times he looked on just as delighted as she. It was a view that could make you forget about the world. The lake was still and quiet, not a sound save for the insects going about their daily tasks. Outside of the four of them, not another person was in sight. There was a small fisherman's dock that jutted out into the water nearby. Michonne stretched out a large blanket at the edge of the lake. Carl placed Judith on the blanket, she was carrying her own princess backpack full of toys that would keep her occupied for a good amount of hours. Michonne sat next to Judith while Rick and Carl went over to the dock, readying their fishing lines.

Carl was quiet for most of the ride up to the lake, and Rick took notice.

"Carl..." he started. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Carl replied blankly. Reminding Rick of Lori.

"I should have asked you before inviting someone else along on our trip. I wasn't thinking."

"Ya think?" Carl mumbled.

Rick looked down, abashed as he continued to fixed the line on his fishing rod.

"Who is she?" Carl stood up angrily, catching Rick off guard, behind the outburst he knew it was more than just inviting Michonne on their fishing trip.

"She is a friend, that I'm sort of helping out. I guess." he said. It was the truth, but the part he decided to leave out was that he was intrigued by Michonne. He wanted to learn more about the woman, the woman underneath the heartbreak.

"It was supposed to be just us." The young boy was still defensive. He rarely got time to spend with his Dad anymore and was looking forward to this family trip, now he would have to share.

"I know, I'm sorry for that. It was wrong of me to not run it by you first. It won't happen again." Rick said sincerely. "We will still have our fun, but do you think just for today you could be nice, and we could fish and catch us some dinner and enjoy ourselves?"

Carl did not want to be angry at his father so he shook his head yes. "Okay, I will."

Michonne watched as Rick interacted with his son. They boy was definitely angry she was there, and she could not blame him. There was clearly some complicated issues with Rick and his kids, she hated thinking that she would be causing more trouble.

Michonne was deep in her own thoughts when she noticed that the little baby girl sitting right beside her was looking up at her with curious eyes.

"I like you hair." The little one said in a sing song way that made Michonne smile.

"Thank you, Judith." She answered.

"Play?" Judith asked holding up one of her barbies for Michonne. She took it and started to move the doll in a walking motion causing the baby to laugh. Judith took another of her dolls and interacted with Michonne, creating the make believe world that Michonne was very happy to take part in.

Rick snatched a peek at the blanket to see Michonne and Judith playing with each other. The sight caused a swelling in his own heart.

* * *

After spending the morning fishing, Rick and Carl headed back to the blanket where Michonne and Judith lay to break for lunch.

Michonne made sandwiches and a fruit salad for them to share. There was not much talking at lunch, Rick chatted with Carl, who seemed a little more at ease, while he fed Judith some fruit. Michonne stayed out of the conversation for the most part, just enjoying the scene.

"I'm going to go change Judith." Rick said after they finished up their lunch. "I left her diaper bag in the car. We're sort of in the middle of potty training now." Rick explained to Michonne as he got up to head to the car. She nodded in understanding, Andre was a nightmare when it came to potty training.

Michonne was left alone with Carl. He was quiet, playing with twigs on the ground. She tried to think of anything that she could say to engage him in conversation to help ease the awkwardness.

Carl felt the awkwardness as well, so he went into his backpack and pulled out a comic to read until his dad came back. This caused Michonne to smile inside. Bingo. She dug in her own bag and brought out a comic of her own.

Carl was watching her from the corner of his eyes. Michonne took notice but did not speak, just pretending that she was in her own world.

Finally, Carl spoke up. "What's that?"

"Oh this? Just a little research for work." She said going back to reading her comic.

"Work? What do you do?" his interest piqued.

"I'm a comic book artist." she answered proudly.

The boy's eyes grew wide, making Michonne smirk. He walked closer to her with his comic in hand. "No way."

"Yes, way!" she retorted.

Carl moved closer to get a look at the cover. "Namor? Who's that?"

"You're telling me you've never heard of Namor? He is only the best comic book character to live in the open sea."

"Like Aquaman?"

"Better than Aquaman."

"No way."

"Yes way." Michonne enjoyed the back and forth she was having with Carl. His previous tough guy shtick gave way to the real young and curious kid.

"What are you reading?" she asked in return.

"Just the Avengers." he said, still eyeing her Namor comic.

"Oh really, who's your favorite?"

"Captain America definitely."

Michonne felt a sting in her heart thinking of her son. His favorite Avenger. "Yeah he is the best." Michonne agreed.

"He reminds me of my Dad." Carl looked at her with open admiration. His distrust for her was slowly slipping away due to their shared interests.

Michonne smiled as Rick walked in on their conversation.

"Who reminds you of me?"

"Nobody." he smiled as he looked back at Michonne who offered him a wink.

Rick caught it, making him smile himself.

Michonne handed her comic to Carl. "You can hold on to this one."

"Really? Cool. Thank you!" he beamed.

Carl smiled and immediately sat on the blanket and started to read. Rick placed Judith next to her brother. "Carl, watch your sister." he said. The boy nodded his head still riveted by his new reading material.

Rick nodded to Michonne and she followed him to the dock. He sat down, then took her hand and helped her sit down beside him. Michonne followed Rick's lead and placed her feet in the cool lake water. Her breath almost caught, the water being colder than expected. She giggled as she looked out at the scene, it was so calm, and inside right now, that is exactly how she felt. She closed her eyes bathing in the sun, wiggling her toes as the water flowed through them.

Rick observed Michonne with warm regard. The features on her face were gentle, peaceful.

"Having fun?" Rick asked.

Michonne looked at him smiling contently. She was.

"Can I ask you a question?" Michonne said, looking out into the lake.

"Sure." he replied.

"What happened?...With their mother? Your wife?" She added, "You don't have to answer if its too personal." offering him an out.

Rick took a deep breath, the smile that was on his face slowly faded. Lori was a difficult conversation to have with anyone. He tilted his head, struggling to find the words.

"Well, we're separated. Have been for sometime now. She took the kids, moved just outside of town and now, I have to spend time with them like this." he said splaying his arm out.

Michonne nodded in understanding. Rick found it easy to talk to her, so he continued, "She had her reasons I guess. I work a lot. When I get home, I'm tired, then I'm up to do it all over again. That doesn't leave a lot of time for a relationship, let alone a marriage."

"There is no shame in working hard." she said. She was all too familiar with her days as a lawyer.

"No, but when you have two kids, a wife who gave up her job to take care of those kids, its a breeding ground for resentment and regrets. The thing is," he continued, "I wanted to be home, I wanted to be with Lori and the kids, but I had bills. Lori didn't get it, so we argued, then I found myself not wanting to be there anymore. Now it's like I don't want to be alone."

Michonne listened to Rick prompting her to think about her own relationship with Mike. Mike was the opposite of Lori. He wanted her to work, and not spend time on her "little doodles" as Mike would call it. That caused her own resentments toward him. She never felt like she had his support. Eventually causing the relationship to fail. "You did not get a divorce though, so I'm sure there is some hope there, some love." she reckoned.

"Yeah I hope so too." Rick ran his fingers through his hair, just thinking about Lori gave him anxiety.

Michonne dropped the subject not wanting to pry too deep.

* * *

It was three o' clock when they packed up their gear and headed back to the car. Rick and Carl managed to catch a few trout to cook for dinner that night.

"I wanna sit next to my friend, Daddy!" Judith cried as she pointed to Michonne. Michonne grinned. People always talk about how difficult toddlers are, but not to her. They gravitated to her, and she to them, easily.

"Absolutely." Michonne smiled as she climbed in the backseat next to Judith in her car seat. She passed Michonne another one of her dolls to play with her like before.

Carl sat in the front seat and was talking to his Dad about how cool his new comic was. Rick was listening not really knowing what his son was talking about. He chuckled and nodded at his son's devotion. He caught a glimpse at Michonne through the rear-view who was listening and chuckled as well.

By the time Rick pulled up to his home, Judith had knocked out sleeping.

"Carl go get washed up, then we will cook this fish." Rick ordered his son.

Michonne helped get Judith out of her car seat then passed her off to Rick. Cradling his daughter in his arms he asked, "You wanna stay for dinner."

She wanted to, but thought this time would best be spent between father and children.

"Maybe next time." Michonne turned down amicably.

Rick nodded.

"Thanks for today. You were right. I needed it." Michonne confessed.

"I'm glad you enjoyed." he replied.

They both stood outside in comfortable silence, as Judith slept across Rick's shoulder.

"Well, I better be going." Michonne finally said. She reached up and placed a kiss on Rick's cheek then walked back to her car.

Rick watched her get in her car, the ghost of her kiss still lingering on his cheek. Before she could pull off, he called out her name.

"Yeah?" she said as he got closer to her driver's side window. Maybe that kiss was ill-advised, she thought to herself.

"I just wanted to say, you did great today. Just coming out was something."

Michonne was grateful for his observation.

"You can give yourself a break, but you also have to face it." he added.

She nodded, then drove off toward her home, his words replaying in her head the whole ride.

* * *

Michonne returned home. Following a shower, she put on comfortable clothes and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. On her way, she came upon Andre's room. Rick's words came flooding back in her mind.

 _"...but you also have to face it."_

Michonne ventured into the room for a second time since losing her boy. She laid on his bed, smelling the shampoo she would use on his hair in the pillowcase. She looked around at all his toys, mainly Captain America and Hulk figurines. It was almost like she could almost hear him giggling in the walls.

"Peanut..." she whispered. Silent tears began to fall down her face and onto the pillow. It hurt something awful. Michonne hugged the pillow allowing herself to just cry. Dinner could wait.

* * *

On the outskirts of King County, not too far away from where Rick and his children ate freshly caught fish and Michonne was remembering her son, there was an old rundown home, living inside was as a unsavory type that goes by the name of Merle Dixon.

He was a drug dealer and a two bit hustler that would do just about anything for a quick buck. He sat in front of his tiny black and white TV screen drinking a cheap beer, when his burner phone rang.

"What is it?" he answered. "Yeah, I know he's alive. Car accident wasn't the best idea."

He sat up in his chair furious at the other person on the line. "How was I supposed to know he would be travelling with a kid?" Taking another swig of his beer, "I'll handle it. You just have my money."


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, I'm floored by the reception of this fic. I was unsure if it was going to be too much drama and not fluffy or smutty enough for people to be interested, but I'm glad you all like.**

 **Sleepywitchysamurai - That's such high praise thank you! There is definitely something more between Rick and Michonne right now, but I am not so sure they realize it yet, if they do, they are not sure what to do with it.**

 **Aurora - Oh my, wow, thank you so much!**

 **Zeejack - Haha! You're review is everything! I love your predictions, but we shall see. Mike isn't so bad, is he?**

 **Seriously though, thank you for all your reviews, SBK, simple1234, Jaylyn, ttgranger, kdthle23, Guestz, Yari, literaturechick, LobsterLobster, and all other readers.**

 **Just a slight warning: I used the N word in my story. I don't mean it as any offense. I hope none is taken. That said, Here we go with chapter 4!**

* * *

 _Mike pulled away from Michonne's home. Andre was in the backseat still reeling from the argument his parents just had in front of him. The Mortal Kombat game was still powered on face down on the seat, the young boy having lost interest. The excitement of the weekend was fading for him after seeing his mother so angry and sad. Mike watched Andre from the rear-view mirror regretting the decisions he made in just the last hour. He dialed his girlfriend Jenny on his cell phone, and put it on speaker. There was no answer._

 _"Hey bud, you okay?" he asked, drawing Andre's attention to him._

 _Andre just nodded, not a smile, his face just riddled with confusion._

 _"I'm sorry." Mike said, talking to his son through the mirror. "Daddy wasn't thinking. You know I love you, and Mommy loves you and sometimes we love you so much that it makes us act crazy. You know?" he tried to explain. "We're good though, and nothing is your fault."_

 _Andre just listened to his Dad, not fully understanding, but hearing the words calmed his young mind._

 _Mike wanted to get his son smiling again, so her redirected the conversation to something that he knew would do the trick._

 _"You excited for this weekend?" he asked._

 _Andre still not in the mood for talking, just nodded again._

 _"I have a lot planned for us." he continued. "I want you to meet someone. You'll like her. And she'll like you. Then we can all be happy together." Andre continued to listen to his father straight-faced._

 _"At least I hope." Mike muttered underneath his breath as he continued to drive down the cold road._

 _"But first," he pulled his attention back to his son, "We are gonna stay up late and get some food, some junk food." he paused and looked at Andre who was staring at him now through the mirror. "Some chips..." A small smile ghosting on his son's lips. "...some caaaandy." he continued, still watching Andre as his grin grew wider. "And we'll watch a movie. What movie should we watch?"_

 _Andre didn't answer at first so Mike began to name off, "Iron man?" Andre shook his head no. "Thor?" Andre shook his head smiling again. "The Incredible Hulk?"_

 _"Noooooo!" Andre giggled out._

 _"Then what?" Mike asked smiling that he finally got his son talking again._

 _"Captain AMERICA!" he cried out, raising his arms in the air._

 _Mike laughed knowing that is exactly what he wanted. "Alright, Captain America it is."_

 _Mike continued to drive down Route 52. Andre now having forgot about the spat between his parents was bouncing with excitement in the backseat._

 _"Daddy, can we have M &Ms?"_

 _"Of course we can have M &Ms." Noticing Andre was moving around the entire seat, "Bud, why don't you have your seat belt on?"_

 _Andre continued to fumble around in the backseat, looking for the buckles. "I'm going to wear my Captain America 'jamas when we watch the movie, Dad."_

 _"Yup, now put your seat belt on." Mike changed lanes, his exit coming up._

 _"Ok Daddy. But I want M &Ms"_

 _Mike watched Andre clumsily try to get the seat belt around his waist. His tiny hands trying to work the button. Mike made the turn on the blind curve heading to King County, once around the bend bright white lights quickly filled his windshield. In an instant, all he heard was shattered glass and screeching tires._

* * *

Mike stared out his hospital window. His view only being the bright blue sky. His eyes were wet with tears as flashes of that awful night replayed in his mind.

 _Ok, Daddy. But I want M &Ms._

Mike looked around his room. His father was sleeping on the chair next to his bed. His cell phone on the nightstand. Mike picked it up and dialed Jenny's number. The last time he could remember speaking to her was before he went to pick up Andre. He lied to Michonne about Jenny and now it seemed like the dumbest decision in retrospect. Jenny and Mike's relationship was on the rocks and he thought Andre would help fix it. She never wanted to meet Andre before, naming that it hurt too much since she could not have children of her own. He knew she would not agree to it, so he wanted to surprise her and show her just how awesome his son was, and that she could be a part his life as well.

Mike put the phone to his ear.

 _"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."_

Mike was confused. He redialed the number, certain he had it correct.

 _"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."_

Mike slammed the phone down next to him. His anger getting the better of him. He took a breath thinking about how he allowed his life to come to this. He thought about who could possibly understand him and what he was going through. He felt absolutely hopeless.

 _Ok, Daddy. But I want M &Ms._

He picked up the cell phone again, sifting through the contacts until he came upon the M names. Mike focused in on her name, recalling the extreme animosity in her eyes when she looked at him.

He placed the phone back down at his side and looked back out of the window, maybe another day.

* * *

There was a soothing sound of smooth jazz playing throughout Michonne's home. She sat in her study, a pen and pad in her hand as she brainstormed ideas for her comic project. She had artistic leeway on this project, more so than she had ever had before. It would be the first time she would be drawing and writing dialogue as well. Her mind was drawing a blank though, so she paused and left the room to clear her head. She'd return to it later.

Michonne looked for her cell phone to call Andrea. It had been a while since she last spoke to her. Her best friend answered after the first ring.

 _"Hey Mich! How are you?"_

"I finally got through to you." Michonne said smiling at the sound of her friend's voice.

 _"I know, I've been so busy with work. I promise to come down and see you soon, once I wrap up this case I'm working on."_

"It's no problem, I understand."

 _"So, how have you been? How are you feeling?"_ Andrea probed.

"Okay, honestly. It still hurts, but I'm trying to face it." Michonne replied, remembering the last words Rick said to her.

 _"That's great. I wish I was closer to you though. I hate that your down there dealing by yourself."_

Michonne felt her heart swell. Andrea has been a constant in her life, she saw her through all of her toughest moments and was even still. "Well, I've had help." She confessed.

 _"Help from whom?"_ As far as Andrea knew, she was Michonne's only real friend. Sure she had her family and other acquaintances, but as far as friends go, they only had each other.

"Rick Grimes, the Sheriff at King County."

Andrea was quiet for a moment trying to recall the name. _"Oooh, the cute one? The one that came to Andre's funeral?"_

"Yeah that one."

 _"Interesting."_ she said.

"He's married." Michonne responded, knowing what her friend was thinking even before she spoke a word.

 _"All the good ones are."_ Andrea surmised.

"They're separated." Michonne did not know why she felt the need to add that small piece of information.

 _"Oh well then..."_ Andrea started.

"Stop."

 _"I'm joking. But, I'm glad you have that support where you need it."_

"Thanks."

 _"So what have you been up to?"_

"I'm working on a new comic book. I'm hard-pressed for ideas though." she admitted. Her inspiration was gone. A lot of times she would bounce ideas off of Andre, who was quite the idea machine when it came to all things heroes and comics. Even at such a young age. Michonne felt her heart tighten at the thought of her son.

 _"That's wonderful, Michonne. It's great that you are getting back to work, but maybe see if Officer Friendly can help you out?"_

Michonne laughed, but there was some truth behind that response. "Okay, well, I'm going to let you go."

 _"Alright hun. Love you."_

"Love you too."

Michonne's mind was now back to thinking of Rick. She did seem to think clearly when he was around her, although not sure why.

Her phone started to vibrate in her hand. "Well speak of the devil..." she smiled as she looked at the screen.

* * *

Rick sat with the crash investigation report on his desk. He picked up the phone to call Michonne immediately.

 _"Hello?"_ The sound of her voice put a smile on his face.

"Hey Michonne, how are you?" He heard the faint sound of music playing in the background. Her voice also had a liveliness about it that it did not have before.

 _"I'm doing good. How was the fish?"_

"Real good, real good. Wish you could have stayed." Rick could almost hear Michonne smile through the phone at his admission.

 _"Yeah, I should have. All I had was leftover chinese."_

He frowned a little, she really should have stayed. "I was wondering if we could get together, soon. I have a couple of things I wanted to discuss with you."

 _"Alright. Well, what are you doing tonight?"_

Rick was caught off guard, he was expecting tomorrow or next week, but he quickly agreed. "Tonight would be good."

 _"Great. Say, seven?"_

"Seven is good."

 _"Good. I'll see you then."_

"Good."

Rick ended the call. What started out with him just needing to talk about business sort of ended up feeling like a date. It could not possibly be a date though. He is married and she is in a vulnerable spot in her life. Why did this feel so much like a date?

Shane walked into his office as he stared absently at the wall.

"Yo, what are you doing?" Shane asked snapping Rick out of his thoughts.

"Nothing. What's up?"

"I came to ask how your trip was with the kids?" Shane took his usual spot sitting at the edge of Rick's desk.

"It was good, real good. I invited Michonne along so-"

"You did what?" Shane interrupted his friend incredulously.

"What?"

"You invited that hot piece of ass to a fishing trip with you and your kids?"

"Shane, be respectful." he warned. "It was nothing. We're friends that's it. Carl and Judith had a great time."

"And I'm sure you had an even better time." Shane added accusingly, a smug smile on his face. "I'm not judging you. I just would not tell Lori if I were you."

Rick stood up from his desk, running his fingers through his curls, irked by his friend's insinuations. "And why not? It was no big deal." Rick felt himself getting defensive. Shane was overstepping his bounds, and he did not appreciate it.

Shane just shook his head, "If you say so."

"I do say so." Rick shot back.

Shane put his hands up in defense. "Okay, okay. No need to get angry."

Realizing he hit a nerve with Rick, Shane switched gears. "You have the night shift tonight?"

"No, I'm out of here at three."

"Cool, you wanna hang out later on. Get a couple of beers, watch the game?" he asked hopeful, trying to make amends.

Based on the reaction he got when telling Shane that he invited Michonne on their fishing trip, Rick was not about to tell Shane about his evening plans with Michonne tonight. "Uh, I'm not really feeling it tonight. I think I'm just going to catch up on some much needed rest."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Rick sighed sitting back down in his chair. He did not like keeping things from Shane, but he was being unusually judgmental. "Maybe call up that lady friend of yours." He suggested.

"Yeah maybe." Shane was quiet a moment, his thoughts travelling to another place. "I'll catch you later Rick."

Rick nodded as his friend left his office. He noticed the change in Shane's demeanor, but not really sure what to attribute it to.

* * *

Rick arrived at Michonne's home just before seven. He brought a bottle of wine, just because he felt showing up with a crash report would have been too formal. He was here on business, but that was not the whole of it. Rick started to feel nervous about knocking on her door. "You're being ridiculous." Rick mumbled to himself.

Rick knocked on the door and waited for an answer. Michonne opened and Rick took a deep breath after having been holding it for so long.

"Hey." he said as he took in the vision in front of him. She was wearing a white top that showed the tiniest hint of her midriff, with a beautiful long and flowing blue skirt. Her hair was swept to the side, and only the slightest hint of makeup highlighting her eyes.

"Hi." she smiled brightly at him. He looked very handsome in a blue button downed shirt that paired well with his own deep blue eyes. "Come on in." She stepped aside allowing him entrance into her home.

Rick was hit with the pleasing aroma of of something cooking in the kitchen. "Here, I brought you this wine, felt wrong coming empty handed." he smiled shyly.

"That was very thoughtful of you. Thanks." she said taking the bottle from him. "I wasn't sure if you'd be hungry, but I made dinner anyway. If you'd like." In actuality, Michonne had been spending the better half of the day racking her brain to figure a the perfect meal to cook for Rick.

"I would." he confirmed, causing Michonne to smile.

"So what do you want to do? Talk then eat? or Eat then talk?" she asked.

Rick considered a moment. The crash report would definitely change the mood. For now he wanted to take pleasure in the moment.

"Eat first."

"Alright, good."

Michonne made Rick a plate of steak, potatoes, and vegetable medley. She did not want to seem extravagant so she made the most sensible meal as to not seem like she was trying to hard, but all the while maintaining a positive impression. Michonne understood he was a married man, but she felt the urge to please him. In a way to repay him for all he has been to her since Andre, but also to let him know she was a lot more than just her pain.

They ate their meal in silence at first. Each sizing the other up and trying to find an appropriate topic of conversation. Michonne broke the silence first.

"So I have a confession to make." she started looking down at her food.

Rick stopped chewing, and looked at Michonne curiously. He had no idea what this confession could possibly be, but it made him nervous.

"I had an ulterior motive in inviting you here for dinner." she continued.

"Oh really? And what's that." Rick felt his palms get sweaty. He took a sip of his drink.

"I accepted this project for work, from my publisher. But I am having some difficulties in coming up with a concept or any ideas for that matter." Michonne paused and took a sip of her water in front of her before continuing. "Its foolish, but I just thought you could help me. I seem to..." She paused again to choose her words carefully. "...think _clearer_ when I'm around you." Michonne looked at Rick to gather his reaction to her concession.

He did not respond. Instead he was occupied in his own thoughts knowing that he felt the same about her. They shared a connection that was in many ways inexplicable even to themselves.

Suddenly feeling insecure she added, "It's stupid, I know." She took another sip of her water, regretting her words.

"It's not stupid." Rick quickly replied. "It's just, I have no idea about comics, or anything like that. I'm not so sure I would be much help."

Michonne nodded, grateful for the bailout. She was not even sure what she expected him to say to such a request.

"Carl." He said simply, looking down at his plate.

"What?"

"Carl, he could help. He loves that stuff. I'm sure he is filled with ideas that could help." he recommended. "We could arrange something." he grinned at her, taking a bite of steak.

Michonne smiled remembering how the boy's his face lit up when she had given him her comic. "Okay then." She agreed.

They finished their dinner and Rick collected the plates to put in the kitchen. "The food was great Michonne. Thank you."

"You're very welcome." she replied.

Michonne opened the bottle of wine Rock brought and poured two glasses as they moved over to the living room area. She passed him a glass and sat down next to him on the couch.

"So, what did you need to talk to me about?" she started taking a sip of her wine.

"The crash investigation report came in." He said cutting straight to the chase.

Michonne's face turned serious. She was not sure what more it could tell her about what happened that night.

Rick proceeded to explain the findings. "There was nothing wrong with the car Mike was driving." he started. Michonne nodded, she knew as much. "The toxicology reports came back negative for both drivers. There was no alcohol or drugs found in their systems." Michonne's face scrunched up in confusion, but she did not interrupt. Rick took a second before continuing, "Based on the impact analytics, Mike had been driving the speed limit. It is believed that the truck had been driving the speed limit until it reached a few feet out of the entrance to King County, where it increased its speed, crossing into the oncoming lane. Where Mike is believed to have been turning into. The blind curve makes it almost impossible to see any oncoming traffic." He stopped talking so she could process the information.

"So what does that mean?" Michonne asked quietly.

"At the time of the accident, the driver of the truck proclaimed that his gas pedal got stuck and he lost control of the car. During the investigation they discovered that the gas pedal of the truck was faulty. It was an old model."

"So it was just an accident?"

"The report leans to that being the case." Rick answered.

"What was the name of the other driver, might I ask?" Her eyes watered.

Rick opened the manila folder and scanned the report, "A Mister Daryl Dixon." he answered.

Michonne had no idea what to say. She wanted to blame Mike for everything. The thing was if it was his fault, it would be easier to deflect her own guilt.

Rick took in Michonne's face. He could tell her mind was clouded as she tried to handle the information she just heard. He wanted to say something comforting, but she started to speak instead.

"It's disappointing." she said in almost a whisper. "I wanted to blame Mike for what happened to Andre. When there really is no one to blame but myself."

Rick was ready to offer a rebuttal but he let her continue. "That night, when Mike came to pick up Andre, we got into an argument." Her voice cracked as she began to relive those moments. "He said he was filing papers for custody. It came out of left field. He never told me before that he wanted primary custody of him. Something about his girlfriend and wanting to start a family." She paused taking a sip of her wine to make it easier. "I got angry. I distracted Andre. I pulled him out of the car, and when he went back in I did not make sure he was buckled up. I created the distraction and he paid the price."

Rick placed his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her. He was all too familiar with the feeling of guilt. Michonne placed her hand over his, accepting the comfort he was offering. She did not want to cry. She was tired of crying, but it was still hard to think about. To face it. To know that he could be alive if he was wearing a seat belt. That the stars decided to align so that at the exact moment Mike was driving around the bend a faulty car was on the road and lost control hitting them head on. She leaned her head over her shoulder and onto her hand that was still on top of Rick's. Closing her eyes, she wanted to feel his touch. She wanted to feel someone's embrace to help her deal with the pain. As if knowing what she needed, Rick removed his hand from her shoulder and pulled her into his chest in a warm embrace. His tight hold on her caused her emotions to overflow as she cried silently in his arms. Rick looked up at the ceiling as he held her, tears threatening to fall from his own eyes. He knew what it was like to be lonely, and Michonne was dealing with it on a completely different level.

The scent of Rick was creating intense emotions inside Michonne. She looked up at his lips feeling the urge to kiss him. It had been such a long time since any man held her. She had gone so long with out the taste of someone else's lips on her own. Rick's strong grip was fueling the desire to just feel something good. Something right. Without much thinking Michonne slowly brought her lips to Rick's. Her eyes focused in on his bottom lip. She came within an inch of his face, feeling his breath on hers. Rick's heartbeat began to pick up pace as he looked at Michonne in front of him. Her brown eyes glistened with tears. The hurt evident on her features.

"Michonne..." he whispered out trying to find himself. "Michonne, I'm married."

Her eyes coming out of a daze as she realized the situation. She moved out of his arms, embarrassed by her actions.

"I'm sorry." she quickly apologized, leaving the room immediately.

* * *

"Hey baby brother!" Merle Dixon shouted at his little brother in the middle of the night, just on the outskirts of King County.

"What the hell Merle!" Daryl Dixon called out. He had been sitting on his motorcycle waiting for his brother to show up and meet him.

"You ain't do your job, little brother."

"I don't want any part of this anymore. I did not sign up for this." Daryl angrily yelled back.

"You want the money right?" he said grabbing his younger brothers collar. "Stop being a little bitch."

"There was a fucking kid in the car!"

Merle took a step back. "I ain't know there was gonna be a kid." he said seriously.

"You always make me do this shit, and I killed a kid." Daryl started up the engine. "I'm done with this shit. Leave me out of it."

Merle came over and grabbed his brothers head between both hands, shaking him. "Man up. It was an accident. Get your head back in the game. All we have to do now is find a way into that hospital room. Kill that nigger, and get paid. Then we can put all of this behind us." he said trying to get through to his younger sibling.

Daryl nodded his head. He would do anything his brother asked of him, but the vision of that young boy on the asphalt would not be something he easily forgot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! I'm such a terrible writer. It takes forever for me to get out an update, so I apologize for that. I hope the more I write, the better I will get at it. Firstly thank you so much for reading. Your comments and thoughts mean the world to me and help me greatly. It gives me the confidence to continue. This chapter is a little long, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you all enjoy reading it. Please please please, leave me your thoughts. Love you all! :)**

* * *

Using his two knuckles, Rick rapped on the bathroom door. "Michonne?"

"One second." she called out. He could hear her turning the tap on the sink.

Rick rested his forehead on the door and let out an exasperated sigh. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her badly, but an overwhelming sense of fear came over him. A fear of what it would mean if he did. It was true that he was a married man, but that was not the whole of it, was it? He was attracted to Michonne on a physical level sure, but on a far scarier note, an emotional level. Being around her was sometimes like looking in a mirror. A lonely broken person staring right back at you. If he were to kiss Michonne he would effectively be giving up on all he has known, and all that he was trying to fix between he and Lori. He would be a failure to his wife that he promised to love for better or for worst. To his kids who deserved a happy home. Also, it was clear that Michonne was susceptible right now, and kissing her would be taking advantage of that, and then what kind of man would that make him?

The door opened causing Rick to step back and out of his thoughts.

"Sorry about that." Michonne smiled weakly. "I don't know what came over me."

Rick could see the weariness in her eyes. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize." He meant it. He even felt a little responsible for allowing the moment to get to the both of them the way it did. He wished he could play it over differently, if only to avoid this uncomfortable situation now.

There was a little awkward tension between the two as they stood in front of the bathroom door.

"So when are you available?" Rick spoke, breaking the silence. He wanted to quickly cast aside the uneasiness.

"For what?" Michonne asked perplexed. Her mind was still on the way his lips looked, how they practically were calling her in to kiss them, and how Rick's blue eyes bore into her as he gently shut her down. Almost as if they did not agree with the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Me bringing Carl over, to help with the comic stuff, if you still want." Rick explained, rubbing the back of his neck. Was he wrong in assuming that she would actually want to see him again? He suddenly felt small in her presence.

"Oh right." She cast her eyes on the floor in deep thought and Rick was sure that she was going to reject him. "How's this weekend?" she said looking back up at him.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Alright." Nodding in relief, he offered a tiny smile. She returned it graciously. For the moment things seemed like they were going to be okay. "I guess I'll get going. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Thanks for stopping by, I really appreciate it." Michonne began to walk him to the door.

"Thank you for dinner." he returned as she opened the front door to let him out.

"You're very welcome."

Rick stood in the doorway wanting to say more, but not sure if there was anything left to say.

"Goodnight, Michonne." was all he could muster up.

"Goodnight, Rick." She spoke softly, closing the door behind him.

Rick sat in his car for a moment as it started up. He wanted to go back. The urge to forget his life, knock on her door and kiss her right then and there was so strong he had to grip the wheel to prevent himself from doing so. Despite it all, he stepped on the gas and drove quietly away instead. It was probably for the best.

* * *

Rick picked up Carl from school the next day. His thoughts of Michonne were still on his mind, but for the time being he would have to cast them aside. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

"Hey bud, How was school?" he asked when Carl got into the car.

"School was okay. Boring as usual." Carl replied, casually playing with a rubber band in his hand.

Rick pulled off, heading for Lori's home. He offered to pick him up before his second shift got started. He jumped on any small chance to spend with his kids. "So, do you remember Michonne?" he asked passingly, as Carl continued to snap the rubber band into the dashboard.

"Yes, the comic lady." Carl answered.

"Right, well she was telling me she has this new comic she's writing and she's lacking in ideas. I thought maybe you could help her, since you like that stuff."

"Oh Yeah! " he exclaimed. The rubber band snapped his finger and Carl grimaced. "I could help. I wanna help." He sucked on his thumb to ease the stinging pain.

Rick laughed, happy for his son's keenness to the idea. "Good, good." Rick nodded. Now, he would just have to run it by Lori.

* * *

Rick pulled up to Lori's home. She must have been looking out the window for their arrival because she was already opening the door before he and Carl even stepped out of the car.

Carl ran up to the door and gave his mother a quick hug before running inside.

"Hey." Rick said as he strolled up to the front door to greet her.

"Hey." Lori responded. Her eyes were shifty as if she was a little on edge, Rick noticed.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Everything is fine." she said, her eyes falling back on him. Rick stared at her for a moment knowing something was off, but he decided to leave it alone for the time being.

"Can I come in?"

"Why?" Lori's face screwed up, her arms folded in front of her like it was the strangest request he could have made.

"Dah-Dee!" Judith cried as she ambled from inside the home and past her mother, jumping into Rick's arms.

"Hey Judy! How's Daddy's favorite girl?" Rick scooped her into his arms and showered her with kisses making her giggle. "I just want to talk a bit." he directed to Lori who was staring at them indifferently. Judith was hugging him tightly around his neck, practically cutting off his airflow but he continued to smile widely in her embrace.

Again Lori's eyes shifted around the front yard, and finally she looked back at him, "Okay, but I have somewhere to be soon, so I don't have all afternoon to talk."

"It will only take a minute." Rick assured her. "Where are you going, anyway? What about the kids?" he asked walking into the home, and placing Judith back on the ground. She grabbed at his legs, wanting to be picked back up again.

"It's none of your concern, Rick." Lori said, picking up Judith and taking her to Carl's bedroom. She closed the door on them and headed to the living area, taking a seat on the armchair. Rick followed suit and took a seat on the couch. "But if you must know," she continued, "I'm dropping them off with my parents. I have some errands to run."

"Errands?" He knew she was hiding something just by the ambiguity of her responses. "Errands cause you to ship our kids off with your parents all the time? When I'm-"

"When you're what, Rick?" Her eyes bore into him, the ferocity colored her voice, "Let me ask you something, Rick. Are you working tonight?" she questioned scornfully.

When he did not answer, Lori continued.

"You see, that is what I thought. You're always working. Nothing has changed. You've learned nothing. And what I am doing and where I am going, it is not your business anymore."

"The kids are, and you..." Rick felt his body temperature rising so he took a moment to control himself. "You're still..." His voice stammered. The words were now evading him.

"I'm still what, Rick?" she persisted, cynically leaning forward in the chair.

His eyes were on the floor now, he did not come here to argue with her, but nowadays it was the only way they could communicate. "You're still my wife." he finished coldly.

Her voice lowered, but the words still cut like knives. "I have not been your wife for a long time Rick, you and I both know that."

Rick felt a sharp pain in his gut. This was it. This was going to be the end. It would not matter how many times he tried to make it up to Lori. She was hell bent on hating him. It did not help that he was not the best at talking and laying out his feelings, but he tried his best to be a good man.

"What do you want Rick? What is it you want to talk about?" Lori leaned back into the chair, her tone changed dramatically, as if she was almost sorry that she said those words to him. Her facial expression was still rigid, so he was knew she did not regret it.

"I would like Carl to stay with me this weekend." he said defeated. Finally getting to the reason why he was actually there.

"Fine. That all?" She stood up from the chair with her hands crossed in front of her in her signature stance.

Rick stood from the couch to meet her at eye level. "Lori..." he started, reaching out for her, but she recoiled, eluding his touch.

"Stop." She put her hands out in front of her, blocking him from coming any closer. "I don't have time for this. You can pick Carl up from school on Friday and he'll stay with you the weekend."

Rick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He would get nowhere with this. Some things you just have to let go of he supposed, but it still hurt like hell. He turned away and left after saying his goodbyes to Carl and Judith. There was no use in trying to fix something that was for all intents and purposes had already disintegrated into dust.

* * *

Her house was quiet, but her mind was louder than ever as she laid on her bed staring up to the ceiling. Michonne deeply regretted her come on to Rick yesterday. Her entire life she had been able to keep her emotions in check but in just the past few weeks she felt her entire being unraveling. She came on to a married man. Michonne placed her hands over her face, hiding from her own embarrassment as if there was someone else in the room with her who could actually see the shame that resided there. She read the entire situation all wrong. It was not like he owed her anything, or that he even cared about her. His kindness began and ended with him being a gentleman. A nice person who found his way into her life under terrible circumstances and decided to help her. That's where it ended. She was not sure if they were even friends really so why would she think it was okay to kiss him? _There is just something about him though._

Michonne's phone began to vibrate on the nightstand next to her bed. She picked it up and looked at the screen, a number popped up that she did not recognize.

* * *

Michonne had to be escorted into Mike's hospital room by one of the nurses. She was a short older woman with golden-white curls that clashed with her Pepto Bismol colored scrubs.

"Mr. James, are you okay with this?" the nurse asked him. The apprehension in her voice caused Michonne to roll her eyes. When he nodded, the nurse turned to leave but not before following up with a death glare of her own, warning Michonne to not try anything.

Mike regarded Michonne as she walked into the room. He called her a couple of hours ago wanting to talk. She wanted to decline, but the findings of the accident report and Rick's words replaying in her mind, she agreed. _You also have to face it._ There was no way she could move past the pain when Mike was a living, breathing road block between her getting back some happiness without Andre. Being angry with him, was stressing her out more than it was helping her.

"Where's Frank?" she asked noticing that he was in the room alone.

"I sent him home." Mike answered. His voice was croaky and dry, heavy with sadness she could tell.

Mike watched Michonne as she sauntered over to the chair beside his bed. He could not imagine what she felt for him, though he had an idea. The last time they were in a room together was evidence enough that it was nothing short of unadulterated hate. Yet, she was here. She came when he called. That had to count for something.

"What am I doing here, Mike?" Michonne finally asked sitting down. She kept her gaze on her hands, fearing if she looked in his face the anger would rise up again and she did not want to lose control.

"Because I have no one else." was the simple answer he gave.

She looked up at him now meeting his gaze. "Where is this girlfriend of yours? Jenny, as I recall?"

No one had been able to get in contact with her. Michonne began to wonder if she even existed. Who goes weeks without speaking with their boyfriend? She wondered if she even knew that Mike had been in an accident, that he almost died and that his son did. What kind of woman would do that?

He took a deep breath and his shoulders rose in a small shrug. "Vanished like a fart in the wind, I guess." A painful chuckle left his mouth. Michonne could see that the humor did not connect with his face. His despair was evident. Mike had spent many hours thinking about Jenny. He met her online, back when he first moved to King County. He was the type of man that could not go long without the touch of a woman. It began as innocent flirting and quickly he found himself intrigued by the woman. She was an alluring mystery to him. They talked over the internet for months before Mike could convince her to meet in person. She stayed to herself and did not like being out much, but Mike just chalked it up to her being shy. She would meet him at his home where she would cook for him and they would talk then make love and she would leave. There was the rare occasion where he would go to her home, but he never stayed. It was no surprise to him that she would not have called. It was not the first time Jenny had disappeared for days on Mike without notice, but now the fact that her phone was disconnected was troubling for him. It seemed that the closer they became the more she pulled away. Towards the end of the relationship, it was effectively over at this point, he was the one to always initiate contact and it felt like she was distancing herself from him, until he got her to agree to hang out for the weekend, where he would surprise her with meeting Andre. The thought of his son pained his heart. He had the impression that Andre could help her realize they could be happy together, as a family. That was what he wanted, to just be happy. The irony was, he had that with Michonne, but his selfishness screwed it up. It was only now that he could see it.

"May you pass me some water?" he asked pointing at the pitcher on the table stand.

Michonne got up and poured him a cup of water, adding a straw so he could sip easily. Bringing it to him, Mike propped himself up against his pillows and took the drink gratefully. The cool water traveled down his throat, he was positive he never tasted something so good, though he was not sure he much deserved it.

Michonne went to sit back down, but she felt him grab at her wrist, gently pulling her back to face him. His touch made her want to jump out of her bones. Michonne regarded Mike, who would not meet her eyes. Instead, his focus was on the backside of her hand as he held it, running his thumb across her smooth skin. At the moment, Michonne noticed how much weight Mike had lost, even in his fingers. His grip was bony and weak. She heard him mumble something under his breath.

"What?"

A low whimper seeped from his lips, "I'm sorry." he said a little louder this time as he continued to hold her hand, still not looking her in her face. "It was all my fault."

Michonne stayed quiet as tears threatened to fall down her own eyes. His soft whimpers gradually turned into a full on cry. "Dre." Mike cried out between breaths. "Dre. Dre. Dre."

He continued to hold her hand, tighter now, like he was afraid she would let him go as he repeated his son's name. Michonne looked down at him, the anguish all over his face. The torment circulating between them. His eyes were closed tightly, the veins in his forehead protruded while he unleashed all the grief he let build up inside. For the first time since this nightmare began, she saw Mike as Andre's father and not his killer.

Michonne moved her hand from his grip and brought it to his rough cheek, Mike naturally leaned into her touch, beholden to it. The tears were a steady stream as he continued to cry out. She held her hand on his face for a moment, before gingerly combing her fingers through his tight black curls that grew out from going weeks without a haircut. She did not offer him any words, her touch being all the comfort she could give.

After some time, the tears faded and Mike fell asleep. Michonne was sitting back in the chair watching him. She could hate him for the rest of her life, or she could move past it. She could begin to live a life that did not involve hating him. Her anger caused their argument, caused her to distract Andre, caused her to lose the most important thing in her life. _"Anger makes you stupid."_ She thought to herself. She won't be stupid anymore. Michonne gathered her things and began to head for the door.

"Michonne?" She turned to see that Mike had awaken.

"Yeah?"

"You'll come back?" he asked.

Michonne took a minute to think about it.

"Yeah, I'll come back."

* * *

Since Rick and Carl were nice enough to invite her along their family fishing trip, Michonne thought it best to repay them by taking them out instead of being stuck in her stuffy old home. Another reason was the last time she and Rick were under her roof she tried to kiss him, so being out would help alleviate some of that awkward tension that was likely still between the two.

It was 10 am, Saturday morning, and Michonne sat in her car outside of Rick's home. She texted him to let him know she was outside. Carl came out of their home first, and politely waved at Michonne in the car. His face was pleasant and kind, a vast difference from the first time she met him. She waved in return to the young boy when Rick came out next. A large smile on his face as he walked toward the car. Michonne took notice of his bowlegged stride, just like the regular cowboys you saw in the old westerns on the movie network. It was quite cute she thought to herself, but immediately cast the notion from her mind before it got her in trouble again.

"So, where are we going?" Rick asked when Michonne pulled off down the road.

"It's a surprise." She flashed him an enigmatic smile, then took a glance at Carl in the review mirror, who's interest piqued. "So Carl, what did you think of Namor?" she asked.

"He's so cool! I think its great that he can fly outside of the water and stuff, but..."

"But what?" Michonne urged him on to finish his thought.

"...I can't tell yet if he is a good guy or a bad guy. Like when he was fighting the Thing from the Fantastic Four." he finished. His muddled expression was pleasing to her. It was the complex characters that she loved the most.

She nodded knowingly, "Sometimes there is no bad or good, sometimes you're just human."

"But Namor isn't human." he rebutted sarcastically.

She chuckled at his response, he was bright for such a young boy she could already tell from the short time she spent around him. Michonne looked over at Rick who was riding silently in the passenger seat, a tiny smirk played on his face as well as he listened to their back and forth. "Well, not all of him at least." she conceded. Carl looked as if he was struggling with the concept.

"There is only one way to find out I guess. Carl, could you open that red bag next to you?"

He did as he was told, with Michonne's eyes alternating from the road, back to his reflection through the mirror. He pulled out a bundle of books that were wrapped in plastic and his face brightened immediately.

"You're just going to have to keep reading." She said.

Carl examined the bundle of Namor The SubMariner comics in his hand. There were a couple of first editions in there, but for Michonne the real treasure was in between the pages. It was one of her biggest pet peeves when people bought comics but never opened them. What a waste.

"All these for me?" Carl asked stunned. Rick was a little taken aback himself. They both stared at her waiting for an answer.

"All yours." she said simply and continued driving to her destination.

"Wow, Thank you! Dad look!" Carl said passing him one of the comics. They looked old, first editions he thought to himself, and he wondered how much they might be worth. He glanced at Michonne who was just smiling, staring out into the road and the look on her face made his heart stir. This simple act of kindness put the biggest smile on his son's face, the likes of which he hadn't seen in such a long time. After all she has been through, losing her own son, she was able to still have love in her heart and share it. It was easy to be cold and withdrawn, and no one would blame her. Rick sure wouldn't. The strength of Michonne astonished him.

* * *

After driving for an hour, Michonne reached her final destination. Ahead of them was a huge gray and white building with colorful lettering on the front.

"Wonder World!" Carl exclaimed from the backseat.

Rick looked over at Michonne who had a large grin on her face that matched perfectly with that of his own son.

"Yes, Wonder World! I figured we could have some fun before we get down to business. How does that sound?" she smiled putting the car in park.

"Yes!" Carl blurted out, in a hurry to be released from the grip of his seat belt.

Michonne then turned her attention to Rick.

"Sounds good to me!" Rick grinned, and they exited the car and into the large building.

Inside was the biggest arcade on this side of Georgia. Michonne walked up to the cashier and bought the largest package of tokens. Rick offered to pay of course, but she adamantly was against it. "My treat." she said sternly. She had taken Andre here a number of times, so she knew any little boy would enjoy it, she herself especially enjoyed it. Michonne split the tokens, giving the bulk of them to Carl. She gave a few to Rick and kept some for herself.

"Alright Carl, so what game is it going to be first?" she asked the young boy whose eyes were wide and overwhelmed by his options.

"I'm going to go find a table." Rick said walking away.

"No Dad! Let's play!" Carl tugged on his father's shirt to pull him along. Michonne laughed at the interaction and the expression on Rick's face. He tilted his head in tow of his son.

Carl found the game he wanted to play first. It was a racing game, the one where you sit on the motorbike and use your body weight to steer left and right as you navigate through the course. "This one, Dad!" the young boy exclaimed.

Rick paused unsure, he was not the gaming type of Dad. He barely knew how to let loose. His life was all work and virtually no play. "Carl, you know I'm no good at this stuff."

Michonne piped up, "Oh, come on Rick, don't be such an old man." She straddled one of the motorbikes next to Carl who was grinning at her with amazement.

"Yeah Dad, don't be such an old man." he added.

Rick flashed Michonne a wry smile, and took his place on the other side of Carl, still not taking his eyes off of Michonne who was clearly pleased with herself. They each put their tokens in and started the race. Michonne was in the lead, having played the game many times before, Carl was in a close second and Rick trailed, bumping into all manners of objects on the screen. Ever so often letting out a "damn it", when his motorbike overturned.

Carl laughed giddily at his father's expense when the race was over, "Dad, you really are bad at that." he teased.

"Ha ha ha." Rick said sarcastically pulling his son in a light head lock and roughly feathering his hair.

"Ugh Dad!" Carl pushed his way out of his father's grip and tried to smooth out his hair, while Michonne looked on smiling. She enjoyed watching the playfulness between father and son, and her mind when to Mike, wondering how different her life would have been had they never broken up. She would be here with him and Andre, and that would be Mike playfully ruffling Andre's hair. Her face went somber for a moment and Rick noticed.

Quickly she was pulled out of her depressing thoughts by Carl who was tugging her toward the next game, "Come on Michonne, let's play this one!"

He walked her toward a shoot 'em up zombie game. Blue and Red toy guns attached by wires used to shoot the zombies on screen. They inserted their tokens and began to shoot away, while Rick looked on from the sidelines. Carl was a great shot, Michonne, not so much. She was only five minutes into the game when her character died and the machine was asking her to insert coins to continue.

Rick raised his eyebrows at her, silently teasing her futility at zombie shooting.

"Maybe I need to teach you a thing or two about shooting." he said as she stood next to him.

"Its not practical. Always having to reload. You'd be better off with a sword or something."

Rick laughed at her observation, she was not good at losing, he could tell.

The three of them continued to play different games, Carl eventually running off on his own devices, while Rick went wandering around the premises. After a couple of rounds of skee ball, Michonne set off to find them. She walked around the grounds when she came upon Rick hunched over the Wheel of Fortune arcade game with intense countenance.

"I almost got it." he said when she walked up beside him.

"Almost got what?"

His eyes were trained on the little yellow light that was traveling around the wheel.

"The jackpot. Two thousand tickets."

She smiled seeing him so invested in such a silly game. He pressed the button and the little light stopped just shy of the jackpot bulb. "Dammit" he huffed under his breath. Michonne tried to keep her face straight when he looked up at her. She was trying her best to hold back a fit of giggles that was threatening to escape.

The corners of his own mouth began to turn up, even though he wanted to be mad about his failed attempt at beating the game. They both burst into a fit of laughter unable to contain themselves anymore.

"It's okay. You were not likely to get more than a frisbee and two pencils with two thousand tickets." she reasoned, wiping a tiny tear that escaped during her laughing fit. It dawned on her that she didn't remember the last time she laughed so hard. It was not even that funny, but she was happy for it.

Carl came running up to them as they began to walk away from the game.

"They have laser tag." he said with a serious tone, trying to suppress his excitement. "Dad can we do it please!?" he pleaded.

Rick and Michonne both shared a look of agreement. "Let's do it." he said.

They signed up for the next session and waited to be called. The group consisted of the three of them and five other children, around Carl's age. The teams were split in two, green against orange. Being that the children were all of young age the attendant split the two teams of four with an adult on each team. Rick was left with one young boy and two girls, while Michonne's team consisted of Carl and two twin brothers. The attendant went over the rules and sent them into a dark room that was illuminated with black lights. At the sound of the horn, the game was set to begin. The task was to shoot the oppositions home base as many times as you can racking up points, while protecting your own.

"Alright, here is how we win." Michonne began laying out the strategy to her team, before the horn sounded. "You two," motioning to the younger boys, "...are going to protect our home base, shoot anyone who tries to come near it." The two boys looked at Michonne with excitement and nodded their heads in understanding. "We're counting on you. Now Carl," she looked at her young companion who could not keep the grin off his face, "Me and you are going to go out and attack them. Stay hidden and we will be in good shape." she said. Michonne put her hand in the middle and the boys stacked their tiny hands over hers, "Team Orange on three. One... two... three!"

"Team Orange!" they exclaimed, ready for battle.

Michonne and Carl ventured out into enemy territory, leaving their compadres behind to protect their station. She was stealthy and really getting into it, when she spotted Rick in the dark, his vest illuminating under the black light. He turned her way and Michonne pulled out of sight behind one of the towers smiling to herself as she hid. Slowly she stuck her head out to see if he was still there so she could shoot, but he was gone. "Crap." She whispered to herself, she ventured further into enemy territory carefully looking behind every corner when her vest began to light up and shake. She'd been shot. She turned around to see Rick smiling smugly, the laser gun resting on his shoulder.

"Try again." he smiled.

She rolled her eyes playfully and went back to her home base to recharge. They finished playing with Rick's team winning by one hundred points.

* * *

After laser tag, they sat down for lunch. They order a large pizza pie with pepperoni and Carl was already digging into it. It was uncanny how much he reminded Michonne of Andre. Just his mannerisms as a young boy excited for arcade games and pizza. She supposed every young kid would react the same way, but she still could not help but think of her own.

They were in the middle of their first slice when Michonne thought now would be a good time to pick Carl's brain and hopefully latch on to something that would inspire her new comic project.

"So are you having fun, Carl?" Michonne asked.

"Yes! Its the best, Thank you for taking me out." Carl said with a mouthful of pizza. Rick looked between Michonne and Carl, his own face stuffed as well.

"You're so welcome. But I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about heroes and stuff. Maybe you can help me find ideas for the new comic book I'm writing." She said, blotting the grease on her pizza slice with a napkin.

He nodded his permission. Rick felt he had nothing to add to the conversation so he just sat, observed and ate.

"What is your ideal hero?" she asked. "Like, what sort of powers would he, or she even, have? Where would they live?"

Carl pondered Michonne's question a moment before answering. "Well he would definitely be a he." he started and Michonne smiled. "And he would be a shape shifter. Like he could just touch something and turn into that thing. Like if he wanted to be a pizza he could just touch the pizza and turn into one." Carl explained.

Michonne laughed, "Shape shifting is cool. What else?"

"Um, I think he would be a kid, like my age. That would be cool, because then kids my age would read it and want to be him."

"There's an interesting thought." Michonne offered.

"And he would live on like Earth, but you could like make him be able to travel to outer space, because he could like shape shift into a rocket or something."

Carl was really getting into it, throwing out all manner of ideas and Michonne found herself trying to keep up, so she could log them in her brain and not forget. When you got a kid talking about something they liked, there was no stopping them.

"Wow Carl, you have some really great ideas. Thank you for sharing them with me. I'll definitely be able to come up with a concept now." she thanked him graciously.

"You're welcome." he returned proudly. "You'll let me read it when you're done, won't you?"

"You'll be the first." she answered. And Carl gave a her a satisfied grin.

* * *

After lunch, finishing up the rest of their tokens, and redeeming their tickets, Michonne, Rick and Carl headed home content with their fun filled day. The ride back was quiet, with Carl occupied with one of his new Namor comics that Michonne had given him. Rick and Michonne enjoyed the comfortable silence, not needing to interrupt it with small talk.

Michonne pulled up to Rick's home just as the afternoon was ready to yield into night.

"Welp. Here we are." Michonne announced as she put the car in park.

"Thanks for everything Michonne. It was so much fun." Carl said as he fumbled out the car, carrying his comics and prizes in hand.

"I'm glad you enjoyed Carl. Thank you for all your help." she smiled at him and waved goodbye.

Rick still sat in the passenger seat and passed his house keys to Carl through the window. "Be there in a sec." Carl took the keys and went inside.

Rick's attention was back on Michonne and that tension that they managed to elude the entire day, returned and was now permeating through the car.

"So, did you find your inspiration?" Rick drawled, breaking the silence.

Michonne shifted in he seat, "Yeah, I think I did." she smiled coyly.

"Good." he nodded. He was racking his brain with something to say next, not ready to leave the car just yet. Then Michonne spoke up.

"I went to see Mike." she confessed. Despite their awkward moment at her home, she resigned that she still wanted to be friends with Rick, he was one of the easiest people to talk to and she did not want to lose that. Not now, when she had so little else.

"Oh you did, huh?" Rick said surprised. After her last meeting there he was sure that the Mike chapter would be over for her.

"Yeah." she confirmed.

"And how did that go?"

"Not as bad as one might think." She chuckled.

Rick took notice that every time Mike came up, their was a hint of contrition, and he was not sure where it came from. "That's good. I'm glad."

"I thought of you when I went though." she admitted.

Rick was caught off guard by her admission. "Really?"

"Yeah, when you told me I have to face it. I figured Mike was a part of that so I went and I faced it." She tore her gaze from Rick and out the front windshield, "I'm glad I faced it."

It was shocking, but pleasing to Rick. That his words were having an effect on Michonne, positively it seemed, because she has definitely been having her own effect on him, more than he would care to admit himself.

"That takes courage Michonne. I'm in awe of your strength." Rick absently placed his hand on her knee and caressed it in comfort.

Michonne's breath caught at the feel of his hand on her body. The sensation sending electricity throughout her body. Rick felt it too and for a moment had no idea what to do. Their eyes connected, but their bodies were cemented in place. It was the same feeling that invaded in the living room of her home not but a few days ago.

Michonne let out a nervous chuckle and moved her leg away, sitting straight into her seat now. "I probably should be getting home now." she said softly.

Rick's hand was still where Michonne's knee had been, when he finally drew back. "Right." he agreed. He slowly turned back in his seat and looked forward. The air was thick in the car and Rick had to force himself to leave, before he did something he might later regret. "Thanks for today." he said, finally opening the door.

Michonne just nodded and offered a smile. He exited the car and Michonne gave him a quick wave before rapidly driving off. When Rick was out of her view she let out the breath she had been holding the entire time. It was hard to comprehend the feelings she was having for him. No matter how much she tried to cast them aside as just a mere misinterpretation, they would return stronger than ever and she had the nagging feeling that it wasn't exactly one sided. Never in a million years did she believe she would be in this predicament. Maybe being friends with Rick was not the best idea for the both of them.

* * *

The hospital was quiet in its early morning hours. In such a small town, there were not many nurses running the floor, and on this night, Daryl Dixon was particularly lucky, because when he reached the third floor where Mike James stayed, there was not one nurse sitting at the station. The halls were dark, only a few dull lights illuminated the way. He covertly walked down the hall toward the room where his brother told him, Mike would be.

The man was sleeping soundly in his bed. Only the faint sound of his snores accompanied by the monotonous beep of the heart monitor.

He was alone, which was good. Had someone else been there, he did have a cover story prepared, but his mission would be postponed for another day. Merle would not be happy with that.

Daryl moved into the room and stared at Mike for a while. He looked at peace, the scratches on his face from the accident were almost gone now. Suddenly the flash of the young boy's lifeless body on the pavement entered his mind. Daryl closed his eyes trying to shake the vision away. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow and the temperature of the room seemed to be getting hotter. Daryl, careful to not make much noise, walked to the heart rate monitor and found the off switch. He clicked it and waited to see if a nurse would arrive to see what was going on.

The screech of the car followed by the thud of the small body hitting the pavement sounded in his mind, as loud as the night it happened.

Daryl's heart was pounding against his chest. This was not him. He picked up one of the extra pillows that lay on the chair beside the bed. It felt like a sack of bricks in his hand.

The young boy's bloody face, his dead eyes, staring at Daryl, reappeared in his mind.

Tears were threatening to escape his face as the memories continued to torment him. This was not who he was. He was no more than a petty thief, but a murderer? That was whole different ball game.

 _But you are a murderer Daryl, you killed that little boy. You got in that defective truck and you ended his life._

Daryl tightly gripped the pillow in his hand. "You already are a murderer." he whispered to himself.

At any moment, a nurse would notice that the heart rate monitor had stopped. The time was now.

* * *

Daryl left the room and the hospital, mounting his bike, he drove out onto Route 52, outbound. He drove five miles out before he pulled over and took out his burner phone, dialing his brother.

Merle answered after one ring.

"It's done." he said, hanging up the phone and driving down the road leaving King County far behind.


	6. Chapter 6

Merle hung up the phone on his brother and took another swig of his beer. Everything was back on track and this pleased him very much. He picked up his burner again and dialed the only other number he had saved in his contacts. It rang six times before he finally connected.

"It's done." He informed.

 _"…"_

"Confirmation? How 'bout you go down to that hospital and check it out for your damn self."

 _"…"_

"When am I gonna get my money? I kept up my end, now it's time to pay up."

 _"…"_

"Fine, I'll get you your fucking confirmation. Have my money ready because the next time I call you it's gonna be the last."

Merle ended the call and dialed his brother again. No answer.

"Shit."

* * *

Rick pulled up to Michonne's home. With hands still resting on the steering wheel of his cruiser, he stared at his sheriff's hat that lay in the passenger side seat. _Time to move now, Rick_. He said to himself, not ready for what he had to do. Regardless, he knew that it had to be done. He picked up his hat and opened the car door, a strong gust of wind hitting him as he exited the vehicle, suggesting a storm was not too far off. Rick put his hat on and slowly made his way to Michonne's front door.

* * *

Michonne was in the middle of a sketch when the doorbell rang. Since having the opportunity to bounce ideas off of Carl, she was beginning to find the inspiration she was desperately lacking for her new project. The vision was in her mind, the images in her brain, the story unfolding in beautiful pictures like they had so easily before. She was beginning to find her footing again, thankfully, but just as life would have it, when things are going good, the rug gets pulled right from under you.

Michonne opened the door, surprised to find Rick standing behind it. She had not stopped thinking about him since they spent the day together in the arcade, nor had she forgotten the feeling with him in the car thereafter.

"Hey, Rick." Michonne greeted pleasantly. "I was just working on a panel for my comic." She pulled the door open wider so he could step in. "Carl was such a help, you have to thank him again for me."

Rick strained a smile and straightaway Michonne knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" she questioned trying to keep her mind from running wild. The worst thing imaginable had already to happened, but now she was thinking all manners of horrible scenarios about her parents, even Andrea in spite of the fact that they were miles away.

"It's Mike." Rick said.

Michonne stood stony at the doorway. She did not even consider Mike. Turning away from Rick, Michonne walked back into her home toward her living room. Rick followed her, shutting the front door behind him. Michonne took a seat on the couch and waited for Rick to join her. Whatever was going on with Mike, it could not be good, she thought to herself. _Did he change his mind about pressing charges? She left him on good terms. Was it a health issue? He was getting better, he was a lot better. What could possibly be going on?_ Rick took his seat next to Michonne, who's attention was steady on him.

Rick removed his hat, and Michonne absently took in the sight of his fingers running stressfully through his perfect brown curls. She listen to him as he began his report, "Someone slipped into Mike's hospital room last night."

Michonne's heart began to pick up pace as she could already feel the sense of dread wash over her.

"Using a pillow," Rick paused watching Michonne's eyes grow large, knowing she understood what was coming next, "They tried to asphyxiate."

 _Asphyxiate?_ She could not believe what she was hearing. _Who would do this? Why would someone do this? Just what the hell was Mike into?_ "Is he dead?"

"The perpetrator unplugged the heart monitor, the nurses were not alarmed." Rick explained further.

"Rick, is he dead?" Michonne asked again more forcefully.

Rick's eyes were downcast now and that was all she needed. Her emotions were confused and all it did was make her head hurt. There were no tears, no outburst. She did not cry for Mike, she wanted to, but her body just would not let her. No matter what she thought of him in recent years, in the face of all the hate she had for him when Andre died, did not change the reality that she loved him once. They were happy once, and someone killed him. The father of her only child. Never in a million years did she think this nightmare would be her life. She gazed around at her empty home, her eyes falling on a picture of her and Andre that sat on the mantle in its silver frame. He looked so much like his father she could not stand it sometimes. "I don't want to be here right now." She said flatly.

"I can take you somewhere." Rick replied without delay.

"I'll get my jacket."

With that, Michonne got up from the couch and left Rick alone in the living room.

* * *

Rick drove Michonne to the only place he could think of at the moment, Lake Vdali.

Instead of stopping in the small parking lot like he had done before, Rick pulled up to the Lake Vdali park office. Michonne watched Rick as he exited the car and entered the building. She did not say a word the entire ride up, not even when he stopped at the grocery store and asked her if she wanted anything to eat. Her brain was fixated on recalling every memory she ever shared with Mike. From when she first met him, to having Andre, to when they last made love, and finally the last time she saw him in the hospital. Her headache was getting worse, like jackhammer drilling incessantly, and Mike... Mike was the piston, applying relentless pressure. It probably would have done her well to ask Rick for aspirin when he made that stop at the store.

Rick was only gone for ten minutes when he returned to the car. Michonne still did not have the energy or desire to say a word. Instead she just followed his lead, trusting him to take her where she needed to be. He continued to drive, following a dirt road deeper into the woods, until they reached a clearing. There was a fog over the lake this afternoon, but it was still as beautiful as the first time she saw it. Rick drove for another half mile until he reached his destination. A small, white, lake house that sat serenely right on the bank of Vdali.

Rick pulled into the driveway and removed the key from his cruiser.

"I rented this place for the next few days." he said to Michonne who was taking in the charming beauty of the home. "You can stay here, it's quiet...peaceful." He placed his hand behind the headrest of Michonne's seat and turned to face her straight on, "You can think here. Or not think. Whichever you prefer."

Michonne laid her eyes on Rick now. His kindness was astounding and even in her darkest of moments he seemed to know exactly what to say to her. She trusted him and it was hard to understand why when they barely knew each other.

"I bought some food, the basics." he continued, reaching for the shopping bags in the backseat. "If you want something else I can get it for you."

Rick opened the door and exited the vehicle. Carrying the shopping bags he looked back at Michonne through the front windshield. Her eyes were trained on him, making him feel a bit exposed, as if she could see right through him, everything he was and everything he was trying to hide. She scared him in that way. Rick motioned for her to follow him into the home and after a moment she did.

Inside, the home was small, but quaint. It had a rustic feel to it with the textured walls and furniture, smelling of cedar and wet grass. Michonne already felt different. The place was not busy, no pictures or memories. There were no reminders of her life, and that is precisely what she wanted. Rick knew exactly what she needed.

Michonne made her way through the rest of the home, exploring its layout while Rick unloaded groceries into the refrigerator. There was only one bedroom, and a bath. The back of the house had a rather large deck, overlooking the water. They were only a few feet away from the lakeside. The water was still, untroubled. Unlike Michonne who, even with her calm demeanor, was reeling inside. She envied that water. She envied this entire place. Michonne reentered the home, to find Rick standing in the kitchen, distracted by his cellphone.

"I am going to lay down for a bit." She spoke.

Rick raised his head up to the entryway of the kitchen where Michonne stood. It was the first time he heard her voice since he reached her home earlier today.

"Are you going to be here when I wake up?" she asked him. Rick took note of her eyes when she spoke. They were sad, but the rest of her face and body just looked like it was trying to hold it together. Her right hand was stroking at her left arm in comfort as she awaited his response. Rick contemplated her question, unfortunately he did not think that far ahead. His sole focus was to just get her as far away as he could.

"Uhm,…" he started.

"I'd understand if you'd have to leave. I'm sure you have a lot of work to do. I was just-" she tried to clarify.

"No. I don't." Rick said with a finality that surprised Michonne a bit.

"Okay then." She left and made her way to the bedroom leaving Rick to his lonesome again. There was an urge within him to follow her to her room. To really be there for her and let her know it would be alright, but instead he sighed and picked up his phone to call Shane.

* * *

The sound of boots moving against the wood grain floor, and the sizzle of meat on a frying pan awakened Michonne. It was dark in her room now and it took her a few seconds to register where she was. _The Lake, right. With Rick._ She had no idea how long she'd been asleep, but judging by the way she felt, simply not long enough. She sat up from the bed and ventured her way to the kitchen where Rick was at the stove, stirring something up in the skillet. "You stayed." Michonne, sleepily piped up.

Rick again was jolted from his attention at the stove when he heard her speak. She was so light on her feet, he could never hear her moving around. "I did." he returned, giving her a small smile. Michonne regarded it, but could barely muster up one in return. "I rented a fishing pole and caught a couple of trout, if you're hungry."

"Sure." Michonne replied graciously. "Can I help?"

"That's alright, just take a seat. It's almost done." he instructed.

She took a seat at the dining table, and stared out the window into the night. The forest looked ominous surrounding the home now at this time of night. It unsettled her to think of what could be lurking within those shadows, staring back at her. Her thoughts wandered back to the dream she just had only minutes ago in the bedroom. She was in her nursing chair, rocking Andre to sleep in her arms, back and forth. Back and forth. It was just like she had done so many times before. He was young now though, no more than two. Mike was there, standing beside her, smiling down at the two of them. Her heart was happy and it felt so real, Michonne smiled back at him. He mouthed I love you and she mouthed it back so she would not wake Andre. She looked from Mike back to Andre, and from Andre back to Mike. Everything was complete. But when Michonne looked back down at Andre for a third time, he was older. His eyes were still closed but there was no hint of life behind them. Not a flutter or twitch of an eyelid. His face was still and his breathing had stopped. He grew heavy in her arms. Cuts and gashes began to form on his smooth brown skin, while dark maroon blood started to trick down from the side of his tiny mouth. In a panic, Michonne tried to stop the blood with her hand, but it only caused the blood to rush out faster. She looked up for Mike beside her, but his face was as blank as Andre, except his eyes were open. Dead, cold and staring back at her as hollow as an empty barrel. She tried to scream but her voice would not produce a sound. In an instant, Andre disappeared from her arms and Mike was nowhere to be found. The nursery ceased to exist and Michonne was standing in a dark abyss, alone, surrounded only by the impenetrable shadows that threatened to envelop her. It was cold, it was lonely, then there was a knock and she woke up.

"Here you go." Rick offered, tugging Michonne from her thoughts, he noticed the goosebumps on her arms as he placed a plate of food in front of her.

"Thank you." she returned.

Rick knew he interrupted a deep thought, but did not push to pry. The two ate their meal in casual silence. The only sound was their forks against their plates, each of them savoring the quiet company. After they were done eating, Rick cleaned up while Michonne took a shower. They did not bother to pack any clothes when they left Michonne's home, so Rick bought her a Lake Vdali sweatshirt and pants for her to change into from one of the nearby vendors when he went to rent the fishing pole to catch dinner. He, on the other hand, was always prepared to spend an overnight shift at the station, so he had a ready made bag in the trunk of his cruiser just in case.

When she was done, Michonne met Rick out on the back deck. He was laying on one of the lounge chairs looking at his phone again.

"Everything alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, I was just saying goodnight to Carl." he explained.

Michonne nodded. She had forgotten about Carl when she all but asked him to stay. She hoped she was not infringing on time Rick was supposed to be spending with his son. "Were you supposed to be with him tonight?" Michonne asked concerned.

"No, not tonight. He's with his mother." Rick assured. "That fits you nice." He said pointing at her Lake Vdali get up. She looked like she stepped right off a roadside billboard.

She flashed a smirk, causing Rick to smile in return. It was a win for him if he could get her smiling, no matter how small it was.

"Thank you. I will have to pay you back for it." She stated. "For all of this."

"You'll do no such thing." Rick said firmly. He pulled a second lounge chair beside him and gestured for Michonne to sit and she obliged.

Resting back on her chair, she considered the lake that extended out in front of them. The moonlight reflected off of the water, sparkling and lighting up the dense trees around them. She much preferred this scene than the one in the front of the house. Michonne turned her attention to Rick who was seemingly preoccupied with his own hefty thoughts. He still baffled her in many ways, how he found himself thrust into her life so unexpectedly. It would have been simple enough if he was just the officer that took care of her that night when her son died. Except he stayed, and he's still here. There is a certain safety she felt with Rick, but it did not stop her from questioning his motives.

"Why haven't you asked?" Michonne finally piped up.

"Ask you what?" he replied, perplexed.

"If I did it. You have to be thi-"

"I know you didn't." Rick said cutting her off.

"You don't know me." Michonne rebutted.

Swinging his feet to the side of the lounge chair he sat up. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

She disregarded his question, then mirrored his position sitting up on the lounge chair. "Why are you here with me? You have your own children, you have a wife, but you're here with me. Why?"

Rick was not sure what to say because he was not sure of the answer. "You asked me to."

"Yeah, but that is not why you stayed, is it?" She commanded his attention glaring deep into his eyes, causing Rick to shift in his seat. Never in his life had someone been able to make him feel so exposed. He wanting to turn away, but it was like his knees were locked in position and he couldn't move.

"Because you asked is the exact reason why I stayed."

"Is it?" Michonne watched Rick as his eyes shifted focus on everything else but her. She had caught him off guard, but still she wanted to know.

"Maybe..." Rick started, now looking out into the lake as if the words he needed would float up and appear, "...maybe I needed to get away too."

Michonne nodded in understanding, she had gotten this far so she decided to go further. "Why are you running from it, Rick?"

His eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"You told me that I have to face it, but you, you're not facing things with your wife. Why not?" she clarified.

Taken aback by her assertion, Rick reclined back in to his previous position on his lounger, "It's complicated."

"Isn't it all."

Rick studied Michonne in the dark moonlight. Her eyes downcast on her feet before her, her face weary, and her frown sad. He could easily drop the subject off of himself now, just like he always did. It did not seem like Michonne would pursue it any further, but just talking to her felt right. So he proceeded to divulge some of the thoughts that kept him up at night.

"I love my kids, but I was not the best husband." Rick began to unload. "When Lori was pregnant with Judith, I was gone. There was money trouble, and now looking back at that time, I resented Lori. Everything was my fault." Michonne laid on her side now, facing Rick, she continued to listen to his words. "It was my fault when money wasn't coming in, since she wasn't working with her pregnancy. Then when I started to pick up extra shifts it was my fault for not being home. She would complain to me about not caring for her, or for Carl, and it angered me because I wanted to be there. We fought and fought but then I guess you can say I just got tired. Instead of fighting, I stopped trying and I think that was the worst thing I could have done." Rick cleared his throat. Talking about Lori and his failed marriage was such a sore spot for him. He never spoke about it, at least not the deep stuff, not even with Shane. "Anyway," he continued trying to keep it together, "I did not realize what it took to be a good husband until it was too late. I should have understood her circumstances better, instead of pushing her away. I should have fought harder to keep her close. I guess it's the regret. I've been working hard to mend it. To make it work and be close with my children again, but realizing that I've dug a hole just too deep to get out of, it's hard to come to grips with that." Rick looked over at Michonne who's gaze was trained on him, "I don't want to be alone. It hurts too much."

"Stay on a sinking ship too long, everyone ends up drowning." Michonne opined.

"Sure."

There was a rumbling of thunder in the far off distance.

"Mike and I could not even get to the marriage part. So I'd say you have me beat there." Michonne offered a small smile that Rick gladly accepted.

"Are you going to talk about it?" he asked her, because she, after all, was the reason they were here.

"That someone killed the father of my child? Or that I feel guilty about spending the last few weeks hating him? That I thought I forgave him but I still can't cry for him? Or that both he and Andre are gone and now I'm alone and that scares me? Which existential crisis to tackle first?" Michonne said sarcastically.

They sat in silence once more, while the crickets chirped and the owls howled.

"Whichever one is the easiest I suppose." Rick murmured.

Michonne chuckled, grateful for the snark.

"I think the easiest would be to drink. Please tell me you bought something hard to drink when you stopped at that grocer?" Michonne asked.

"Actually..." he started to get up when another rumbling sound of thunder sounded. This time it was occupied with a flash of lightning in the distance. "We can go inside and find out."

* * *

Rick had indeed bought a bottle of Johnny Walker Black, more as a back up plan than anything else. He passed her the bottle while he went to retrieve two glasses, and Michonne displayed her first real smile of the day. "Good stuff, Grimes." stating her approval.

She poured out the drinks, and took a sip of the cool brown liquid. She relished in the sweet burn as it traveled down her throat. Michonne was not a hard drinker, wine was preferably her weapon of choice, but when the circumstances called for it, she would indulge. For Rick however, whiskey was a welcomed friend.

The pair sat side by side on the couch and allowed the alcohol to work its magic. After enough time and glasses later Michonne felt the whiskey taking its effects.

"I wish we had music." She commented passively, refilling both of their glasses.

"Oh, but we do." Rick said. He pulled out his phone and tapped the selection, Playlist 1.

Michonne had no idea what song played through the effectively loud speakers of his phone, only that it was Willie Nelson. The voice was unmistakable. Rick leaned back in the sofa and closed his eyes. There was a faint smile on his face while he tapped his hand against his knee in sync with the tune, they both listened to Willie Nelson belt the lyrics of _Whiskey River_ through his phone.

 ** _Whiskey River take my mind/Don't let her mem'ry torture me_**

 ** _Whiskey River don't run dry/You're all I've got, take care of me_**

Michonne could only imagine how many times Rick listened to this song, nursing a bottle of Johnny Walker and if there was any piece of her heart left, it broke for him. She knows all too well the feeling of being alone.

"I used to listen to this song all the time." Rick confessed, his eyes still closed and his head resting back against the sofa. "Even when I was with Lori. Who would've thought, huh?"

Michonne leaned back with him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder. Deliberately this time. "Yeah, who would've thought."

Rick put his arm around Michonne and pulled her into his embrace. She listened to the vibrations in his chest as he hummed the melody of the song. As Rick sang, Michonne thought of Mike. She did not want to be haunted by his memory. She did not want to think of what happened between them, or lament over the past. It may have been the whiskey, or the fact that she was comfortable in Rick's arms, but she did not feel so alone. In fact, she felt like she was right where she belonged.

* * *

Rick woke up to the smell of coffee, he had been sleeping on the couch, a blanket draped over him, still in yesterday's clothes. He vaguely remembered what happened the night before, but he definitely felt the effects of it. Michonne placed a mug on the coffee table for him.

"Morning." She greeted.

"I'm never drinking again." he said rubbing his face awake. Michonne gave him a pitiful smile. "I didn't do anything too embarrassing, did I?"

"No, but I won't be getting Willie Nelson out of my head anytime soon."

"Aw, well that's not so bad." he said smiling up at her. He picked up the hot mug of coffee, needing something to get the taste of last night's whiskey out of his mouth.

"I made eggs if you want." Michonne informed.

"Thank you." he said, taking another sip of coffee.

"They're on the stove." she added.

Rick nodded and got up from the sofa, his back cracking as he stood up. _The designers obviously went with style over comfort_ , he thought to himself.

Michonne followed behind him as he walked in the kitchen to get him a plate. "Can I ask you something?" She spoke.

"Yeah." Rick scooped some of the eggs on his plate and popped a piece of bread into the toaster.

"So what happens now." she asked. "With Mike. Do I get to see him? I mean there has to be some sort of an investigation, right?"

Rick took another sip of his coffee. "There is investigation. As it stands right now, you won't be able to see him. Not yet." Rick answered.

"I know Frank probably thinks I had something to do with this. The way I was the last time he saw me." Michonne grimaced at the memory of her outburst in the hospital. She took a seat at the dining table while Rick waited for his toast to pop. "I'm going to have to call Andrea. She hated Mike, but she will want to know. Then there's my parents."

When his toast was ready, Rick carried his plate and sat across from Michonne at the table. "Who is Andrea?" he asked, buttering his toast.

"My best friend." Michonne informed. "I think you met her once, or you may have just saw her. When I ran into you at the diner? A little after Andre's funeral?"

"Oh right, the blonde woman?" Rick asked gesturing to his head with the knife.

"Yeah, that's her." Michonne confirmed.

"And you said she hated Mike?" He asked.

"She was not his biggest fan." she admitted, wondering where this line of questioning was going.

Rick took a bite of his toast along with a fork full of eggs."You guys visit the diner often?"

"What are you trying to get at Rick?" Michonne questioned, annoyed now.

"Like I said Michonne, it is an active investigation. I have to-" he started before Michonne cut him off.

"I did not think I was talking to Officer Rick Grimes right now. I won't sit here and answer questions about Andrea so you can use my words and twist them around into something that they're not."

Caught off guard by her anger, Rick dropped his fork on his plate. "Michonne, I-"

"Is that why you brought me out here, alone? Treat me all nice and pretend to be my friend for information?" The agitation was written all over her face.

"It's not like that, Michonne. I would not do that to you. I would not take advantage of you." he said sincerely. "I wouldn't do that."

Rick had his eyes completely locked on Michonne as he spoke and she knew he was telling the truth. There was nothing shifty or fake in his words and she began to relax. Rick picked back up his fork and continued to eat, "I do need to know though, do you have any idea who may have wanted to hurt Mike?"

Michonne took a moment to think. "No. I was not really keeping tabs on his life for the past few years, but he did mention he had a girlfriend and they were supposed to be moving in together. She would be a better person to ask, she would have known this new Mike better than I ever could have."

"A girlfriend?"

"Yeah, Jenny he said her name was. That was what we were arguing about that night. The night of the accident." Michonne's face grew solemn. "Anyway, he said he wanted to file for full custody so he and Jenny can start a family. That's why I thought it strange when she never showed up after the accident. It was like she was wiped off the face of the earth."

Rick was intrigued by this new information and made a mental note to follow up on it when he got back to the station. He finished eating, and Michonne, for all his protests, went on and washed his dish as well as serve him another cup of coffee.

"What do you want to do today?" Rick asked stirring in his creamer this time.

"I think I am going to take a walk by the lake." Michonne looked out the window, there was barely a trace of the storm the night before. Not a single cloud in the sky.

"Alright, I just need to take a quick shower, find some pants and I can-"

"No Rick, I think I am going to go alone."

"Alright then." he said.

Michonne smiled, then left him alone to his own devices.

* * *

Michonne walked on the edge of the lake and found a spot to sit. She placed her shoes next to her and spread out her jacket to sit on. The sun was bright and vibrant. It was a reminder that despite what is going on with her the sun still shines, and the world goes on.

She closed her eyes and let the sun kiss her skin, just like she had the first time she visited this place. She listened to the birds sing their songs and lost herself in their sweet harmony. Rick was right about this place. It was the perfect place to run away and forget the world. This morning though, she allowed herself to remember. Michonne sat on her jacket at the edge of the lake and cried for the first time since hearing the news about Mike.

* * *

Michonne was walking back to the lake house when she saw Rick exiting in his full sheriff's uniform.

"What's going on?" Michonne asked, confused.

"I have a work thing I need to check out. You can stay here if you want, I still have the house for another day, but I really have to get back. I can come back and pick you up."

"No, I'll leave with you know." Michonne answered. "I should call Frank. See how he is doing with everything."

"Okay."

"I'm just going to go get the rest of my things." She said heading back up to the house, when Rick gently grabbed her arm.

"Michonne?"

She gave Rick her full attention, considerate of the subtle change in his demeanor.

"I just wanted to say that everything will be okay." Michonne nodded, but Rick wanted to make sure she understood. "No matter what happens, I want you to know that I enjoyed this little time we spent together. I would never want to do anything intentionally to hurt you."

Worried now, She questioned, "What's happening, Rick?"

"Nothing. I just wanted you to know that."

"I do."

He let her go, and Michonne jogged back up to the house to retrieve the rest of her belongings.

Rick returned the keys and signed out in the park office. He dropped Michonne off at her home, then headed back to King County and straight to the station.

* * *

Rick watched through the two-way mirror as Shane interrogated the man that came to Mike's hospital room today.

"So Mr. Dixon, how did you know Mike?" Shane asked.

"I fixed his car at my shop. We hit it off. Became good friends, Mike and I. I heard about his accident in the news, thought I'd stop by for a visit." The man smugly replied. He was the living stereotype of white trash, with his dirty teeth, beer gut, and dirty blue jeans with the white sleeveless undershirt to match. Everything about this guy signaled bad news.

Rick looked over at the man that stood weakly by his side, "Ever seen him before, Mike?"

"No. Never." he answered.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hey ya'll. This story is going to be my priority until I finish it. I know it has been a minute since I've updated, so lets recap:**_

 ***Andre was killed in a car accident.**

 ***Mike was driving the car, leaving him in critical condition.**

 ***Michonne was broken, Rick was there to help.**

 ***Turns out the accident wasn't an accident. Dixon brothers involved.**

 ***There was an attempt on Mike's life in the hospital.**

 ***Rick breaks the news to Michonne, they spend a couple of healing days at the lake.**

 ***Mike's not dead.**

 ***Rick knows.**

 ***Michonne doesn't.**

 _ **Let's see what's next. As always, thanks for reading. :)**_

* * *

 _"Yes...oh god...right there!"_

 _The sweat dripped from his brow, eyes shut tightly as he let her voice guide his movements. His thrusts, her moans, the thud of the wood headboard against the wall, all a sweet symphony in his ears._

 _"Uhmpfh..." He groaned. The slick walls of her womanhood enticing his release._

 _He wrapped his right hand in her hair, his left firmly gripped on her waist for balance, looking down now at his hard member appearing and disappearing into her from behind._

 _"Oh fuck..." He slowed down trying to regain composure. The pleasure was threatening to overtake him and he definitely wanted to make this last as long as possible._

 _Pushing back on him, she lifted her body. She reached out for his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. "Make me cum...please!" She begged as she rolled her hips, grinding on his dick._

 _That was all it took. He pushed her back down to her previous position. Gripping her waist, he pumped steady. Giving her all he had, she took it. Holding on to the headboard for dear life, she screamed with pleasure as he filled her to maximum capacity. The sound of his balls slapping against her backside, the extra encouragement she spoke, pressing him on. Ready to become undone at any moment, he finally felt her tremble underneath him._

 _"Fuckkk Lori!"_

 _She came with a vengeance and he followed suit. They both allowed the wave of ecstasy wash over them as they collapsed together on the bed, regaining their wits._

 _She laid her head on his chest, her dark brunette hair covering half her face. He loved the look of pure bliss after she had a good hard orgasm. He had to be quick to catch it, because once they were done, her face would return hard, occupied with the thoughts she wouldn't share._

 _She moved the hair from face and looked up at him, "I've been thinking."_

 _"Yeah, 'bout what?"_

 _"A new scene." She confessed._

 _"This one not good enough for you?" He smiled._

 _She gave him a half-hearted smile. "I think... well, I think it would be good for the kids. For me too. Should've done it a long time ago."_

 _"Hmm."_

 _"What do you think?" She asked, sitting up now so she can see his full reaction._

 _"Well I think..." The cell phone on the nightstand rang interrupting his thoughts._

 _He reached over and answered much to Lori's dismay. "Walsh."_

 _Shane sat up and listened intently to the person on the other line. "I'm on my way." Ending the call, he stood and began collecting his clothes from the floor._

 _"What is it?" she asked concerned._

 _"Got a lead in that hospital case." He informed._

 _"Really?" Leaning her back against the headboard, "What happened?"_

 _"Not sure yet." Shane pulled up his pants and buckled them. "When are the kids coming back from your parents?"_

 _"Tomorrow."_

 _"Morning?"_

 _"Yeah. I'm going to pick them up around 9."_

 _"Oh okay. Well, I'll be back tonight then." Putting on his shirt and grabbing his cap, he leaned over the bed to give Lori a goodbye kiss. You would not know they were in the throws of passion not a few minutes before. Her lips were lifeless as their lips met. "We'll talk when I get back."_

 _He paused as he got to the door of the bedroom. "If you're serious about this new scene thing, you're going to have to tell Rick. You can't just take his kids."_

 _"Fucking his best friend is fine though?" She demurred, her arms wrapped around her knees._

 _"I'll see you, later."_

 _He turned away, and took out his phone again to call Rick, leaving Lori alone to brood._

* * *

The harsh fluorescent light beamed heavy on Merle's head as he sat in the dank, gray interrogation room. His ass was already uncomfortable in the metal chair they had him sitting in, but whatever discomfort he was feeling he made sure that it did not register on his face as he glowered at the dark haired deputy in front of him.

"So you fixed his car you say?" Shane sat at the edge of the table to the left of where Merle sat. He leaned into his personal space, doing his best to make him uneasy. Based on their interactions so far, he could tell Merle had been through this ringer many times before.

"That's what I said." Merle snapped back.

"Hmm..." Shane chuckled. "That's what you said, huh?" Shane moved from his position next to Merle and made his way around the table. Pulling out the chair, he sat directly across from the man, staring square in his eyes.

"Lemme ask you sumthin'…" He noticed the shift in body weight by Merle as he sat in his seat. "You always become good friends with your customers?"

Spreading his arms out to his side then behind his head, Merle sneered, "I'm a friendly guy. What can I say?"

Shane mocked his smile, "You're a friendly guy you say? You heard about his accident on the news but it took you weeks to finally visit him?" Shane waited for a response and when he got none, he continued, "Lemme ask you sumthin' else then." Taking off his cap, he placed it on the table, meeting Merle's eyes once again, "Where's your brother?"

There was a break in the tough guy persona Merle had been trying to keep up until now. "My brother?"

"Daryl. That's his name right?" Shane questioned.

"What my brother got to do with anything?" Merle leaned forward, the anger in his voice more prevalent.

"Where's he at?" Shane pressed on.

"He ain't around." Merle leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

"When was the last time you seen him?"

"Couple days ago." Merle provided. "Again, what that got to do with anything?"

Shane leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the metal table, feeling as if he finally struck a cord with Merle. "Everything." He said smugly. "Of course you know about that accident he was involved in a couple of months ago."

Merle kept his mouth shut and Shane continued. '

"And since you are here, you have to know who the man in the other vehicle was?"

Still no answer.

"You know there was a little boy in that vehicle too? He died."

"Tragedy." Merle finally spoke up.

"Weird that his Daddy is a good friend of yours and you failed to show up at his funeral, or anything..."

"Am I under arrest, because if I am, slap some cuffs on me and take me to a cell because I'm done talking to you."

"Oh so you're done? Fine. Don't really need to talk to you. Its your brother I really want anyway. With him and Mike's testimony, I'm sure we can get to the bottom of all this shit." Shane got up and walked toward the door. Merle spoke up stopping him in his tracks.

"Whatchu mean, and Mike?"

"Oh that's right, I forgot to tell you the good news. Your good friend, Mike? He's not dead. Turns out the guy, your brother, that came to kill him couldn't go through with it. Just high tailed it out of King County." Shane took great joy in the befuddled expression on Merle's face. "Surprised by that?"

"I think this conversation is over." Merle finally spoke up. "So if you're going to arrest me best do it now."

"Why would I want to arrest you Dixon?" Shane asked amused. "Hang tight."

Shane closed the door behind him and walked to the room next door where Rick stood, looking through the two-way glass.

"So what do you think?" He said to his partner and best friend.

"I think we need to find this Daryl asap." Rick mused. He looked over at Mike who was leaning against the wall now. Frail still, his face strained with confusion at the circumstances going on around him.

"So what do you wanna do with Hillbilly Joe in there?" Shane asked.

Rick looked at Merle through the glass. He had his arms folded across his chest still, but clearly immersed in deep thought. "We can hold him for a little longer, before we have to formally charge him with something. In the meantime let's look up some priors, take a look a look around his place, see if we got any leverage to get him to start talking. Its clear neither he or his brother are the masterminds behind this whole thang, and that's who we gotta find. He won't hold out much longer if it means jail time."

Shane nodded. He took a moment before asking his next question. "What about the Ex?" He spoke in a soft voice. "You sure about her?"

"I'm sure." Rick replied. Looking up at Mike who was paying them no mind, still in his thoughts.

"I mean, I know she's cute and all, but her son did die. That'll make anyone..."

"I'm sure." Rick said more forcefully now, cutting Shane off. "Just get me some dirt on this Merle. I'm going to go see what I can find about the other one."

Rick turned to Mike. "Let's get you set up in a hotel, We'll keep a couple of officers on watch at your door."

Mike nodded, and walked toward the door. Quietly he spoke to Rick, "I'd like to speak to my father now, let him know what's going on."

"We can arrange that." Rick assured, guiding him out the door.

* * *

The next day, Michonne absently retraced the lines on her drawing as she listened to her friend on the other end of the phone line. "Yeah, I called him, but he just hung up the phone on me. It is clear he blames me for Mike's death or thinks I had something to do with it." Michonne confided. "I could hear him on the other end, but nothing."

 _"It's still fresh, he will come around soon enough."_ Andrea offered.

"I just don't understand, Drea. What could Mike have possibly been into?" The lines on her paper grew darker as she dragged her pencil over it.

 _"I don't know Mich."_ Andrea was at a lost for words about the entire situation. The amount of times she wished Mike gone from her best friend's life, she never would have thought like this.

"...and to think that my baby could have been the collateral damage in all this?" The pressure from Michonne caused the lead of her pencil to break. She tossed it across the room in frustration. "All these lies surrounding me and I just don't know what to do, or who to trust."

 _"You can trust me. We will figure this out."_

"I know." Michonne said feeling herself get calmer already. "I woke up one morning and my life became a damn soap opera."

 _"I know Mich._ _You've come so far, and you don't deserve this. I'm here for you though, I can make a trip..."_ her friend started before Michonne cut her off.

"No, don't bother. You have your work and a life, you don't need to be burdened with my mess."

 _"Your mess is my mess. You're my best friend."_

Michonne smiled against the phone. Andrea was always looking out for her. "Still. I'm okay for now. Rick has been a big help, and he is leading the investigation, so I trust I will get some answers soon."

 _"Good. Take care of yourself Michonne."_

"I will. Love you."

 _"Love you too."_

Michonne ended the call with Andrea and looked at the paper she had been drawing on. There were dark shadows and lines where they didn't belong. She had messed up her panel and would have to start over. It did not seem like she would ever get this comic done with the way her life had been heading these past weeks. Tomorrow she could be the one being buried six feet under. Michonne shook her head trying to cast away the morbid thoughts. Something to eat should make her feel better.

After making herself a sandwich, Michonne poured herself a glass of tea, and set herself up in front of her television. Before she could begin to eat there was a banging on her door. Pulling the curtain back from the window, she saw a disheveled Frank, with a bottle in hand. His car parked haphazardly in the street, with the front end on the edge of the sidewalk. Cautiously she opened the door to him.

"Frank?" She said eyeballing his appearance. "What are you doing here?"

Frank's tired eyes stared at her. A face so serious, Michonne was taken aback at how much he and his son favored each other. Take away the trace wrinkles around his eyes and forehead, they gray hair, they could pass for the same person. She quickly surmised that he had been crying. The puffiness around his eyes giving him away. "Do you want to come inside?"

After some seconds that felt like minutes to Michonne, Frank spoke up, "Why, Michonne?"

She waited for him to ask the question in its entirety.

"Why did you kill my son?" He finished.

Michonne took a deep breath before she answered. "I did not kill Mike, Frank." She said calmly, realizing there were many hurt and angry feelings at play. Emotions she was well accustomed to at this point.

"I saw your face that day. When you came to visit him at the hospital."He took a swig of whatever was in that bottle. "You of all people know what it is to lose a child, and he lost his. But you could not forgive him. He blamed himself badly for it, but all you could see was your own selfish pain."

"Frank..."

He approached the door and Michonne instinctively recoiled a bit behind it.

"Why did you take my son from me?" He said through the small opening between them. Michonne could smell the drink in his breath now.

"You should probably leave." She sighed, moving to close the door in his face. "I can't talk to you like this."

"Why did you take my son from ME?!" he repeated louder now. A sprinkle of saliva hitting her in the face.

"I did not do this to Mike, if anything he did this to himself." She angrily shot back. "I am sorry this happened, I am, but I have nothing to do with it. Frank, you know me."

"I did. I thought I did." He spoke softer now, looking at the ground around him. His shoe rolling back and forth on stray gravel. "You were like a daughter to me Michonne."

"I still can be that..."

Frank looked up at her with tear filled eyes. They transformed from sadness to full rage in a matter of seconds. He slammed the bottle on the ground and Michonne closed the door. "You didn't have to kill him!" She heard him yell from the other side. "You didn't have to kill him!"

There was a loud slam against the screen door. Michonne pulled out her cell phone and dialed Rick's number.

* * *

The afternoon sky was turning shades of pink and purple by the time Rick pulled into her driveway. Frank was still sitting on her front porch. His demeanor was less aggravated and his head hung low, in shame or disgust, Michonne could not tell. She just knew she did not want to let him inside her home. Not until he had a clearer head.

"Frank, it's time to go." Rick said as he walked up to where he sat.

"Sheriff Grimes?" Frank slurred his words. He began to stand up, but with the alcohol running through his veins, it proved difficult. Staggering to his feet, Rick assisted Frank in getting him upright. "I didn't mean anything by it." The older man muttered as he found his footing.

"Let's go." Rick led him by the arm to the back of his police cruiser. When he was settled he made his way back to knock on Michonne's front door.

"Michonne? Its me, Rick."

She opened the door to him. Taking off his hat in a true country boy manner, he drawled, "You alright?"

It was a quick moment that Michonne found herself lost in his eyes. They sparkled ever so slighty in the setting sun and although she was with him just yesterday morning, the feeling in her stomach as he stood in front of her signaled something that she did not register before. She missed him. Even if it was just a few hours.

"I'm fine." She confirmed, sheepishly. "I just didn't know what to do with him. I never seen him like this, but I guess losing a son can make you act in ways you never thought you could. I should know." Michonne focused in on Frank as he sat in the back seat of the cruiser. She felt no ill feelings toward him. "Thank you for coming so fast. I didn't want to just call anyone." She explained.

"It was no problem." Rick replied. "You don't want to press charges?"

Michonne walked outside and assessed the damage. The strong scent of alcohol filled her nostrils, careful to sidestep the shattered glass from the bottle, she took a look at her screen door. There was a large dent in the bottom half of the aluminum part of door, courtesy of Frank's foot. It would need to be patched and filled. "That's the worst of it?" Michonne strained a smile. "Of course not."

"I know someone who can get that fixed up for you if you'd like." Rick offered.

Michonne nodded politely.

"Alright then. I'll talk to you soon." Rick said. "Let me get Mr. James out of here."

Rick placed his hat back on his head and turned away when Michonne reached out for his arm. "Is everything going okay, with the case? I don't mean to pry, but did you find anything?"

The physical contact caught Rick off guard, but it was a welcomed feeling. His mind quickly went back to her in his arms as they sat on the couch drinking and singing along to Willie Nelson. When time stopped and the world felt right just for the length of a song. "We have a pretty good lead right now. Just keep your eyes open, and stay safe. Call me if you see anything strange... or if you need anything." Rick informed.

Michonne's brows knitted with worry, but she nodded in understanding.

"Anything, Michonne." Rick reiterated.

"Okay, I will." she confirmed. "Thank you, Rick. For everything."

Rick tipped his hat and made his way back to his car. His conscious weighing heavy on him with every step he took. There was an opportunity to tell her, but he didn't, he couldn't. At least not now, and not like this. He needed to get this whole case wrapped up, and wrapped up soon.

* * *

That night, Lori sat at the dining room table nursing a glass of red wine, the laptop in front of her commanding her attention.

"Whatcha doing?"

She jumped, nearly spilling her drink all over her computer. Carl stood behind his mother, confused by her anxiousness.

"Carl, you scared me!" She said, immediately closing the laptop. "Mommy was just doing some...stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" the young boy probed.

"Mommy stuff. Research and stuff. Boring stuff." She deflected. "Where's your sister?"

"She's in her pen, playing." Carl informed.

"Good. Why don't you go put on your pajamas and I'll pop some popcorn, we can rent a movie on the TV." Lori smiled at her son. "While I finish up here."

Carl's bright smile filled his face, "Okay Mom!" He scurried off to do as she asked.

Lori watched as he scampered away. When he was gone, she opened the laptop again. The prompt still on the screen.

"ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE?"

Lori finished the rest of her drink in one gulp. Taking a deep breath, she moved the cursor, she clicked OK.


	8. Chapter 8

"Whatta ya got?"

The young officer caught Rick in the hallway of the station and began to fill him in on his findings.

"Cams caught Dixon last spotted at a gas station just outside of the county on the night of the attempted murder. Around 4:30 that morning. The attendant, A Mr...Uhm..." Rick waited as the officer scanned the report in his hands. "Uh... Mr. Horvath, reported seeing a man on a motorcycle fill his bike up then speed off, South bound. He paid in cash. Horvath described his appearance as mid thirties, dirty-blond, shaggy hair. Said he was wearing a vest with angel wings on the back. Said he remembers him looking a bit on edge."

"That all?" Rick asked.

The young officer continued, "He has been off the radar, no credit or ATM use, nothing on record. We put an APB out on him, so if anything hits I'll let you know."

"How about the brother?"

"Mr. Dixon is locked in holding. Not talking. A couple of officers did a drive by around his premises, no activity. We are going to need that warrant if we want to take a closer look."

Rick nodded and checked his watch. "We have about another 22 hours or so before we have to release him unless we can find something to charge him with. I'll call the judge, see if I can get that warrant. Good work, Duane."

Pleased with himself, the young officer gratefully nodded then left down the hallway.

Rick continued down the corridor until he reached his destination. He stopped at the coffee bar and poured a small cup of joe, then headed to the holding cells. The station was small, but they did manage to have five holding cells; never the need to use all five at once except for the occasional bar fight. He strolled past the cell that housed Merle, the man too lost in his own thoughts to notice him pass by. Pulling out his keys he opened the gate to the cell at the end of the hall. The sound of the metal clacking jolted Frank awake from his slumber. His eyes squinted as he came to, the effects of the alcohol already rearing its ugly head.

"Here, drink this. You'll feel better." Rick said passing Frank the cup of coffee.

"Thank you." Frank politely croaked.

"How you feeling?" Rick asked. It had been a couple of hours since his tirade at Michonne's home.

"Like shit." Frank admitted.

Rick pulled up a chair from outside the cell and positioned himself beside Frank. "I need to tell you something Frank, but I need you to listen carefully and understand."

Frank stopped drinking his coffee and focused on Rick. His head pounding.

"Your son, Mike... he's alive."

* * *

The cool breeze through her hair, the sweat trickling down her back, the sounds of De La Soul streaming through her headphones. Current track "Breakadawn". Michonne was in the zone as she jogged through the streets of her neighborhood.

Yesterday's commotion with Frank had her on edge, her thoughts more clouded than ever. The bright spring morning was the first time since this mess she now calls her life began, in which Michonne decided to lace up her running shoes and focus on herself by herself. Prior to Andre's death, She would use running and exercise as a way to clear her mind, to formulate solutions to her problems staying fit, mind, body and soul. Something she had neglected until now. Frank had been a reminder of just how much she was not dealing with. Running away with Rick to a lake is all well and good, stuffing her face in her work was a fine distraction, but eventually she would have to re-enter the world, find a way to live. Easier said than done. Michonne began her run with a bit of apprehension. Seeing familiar faces as she jogged by. The chatter in her brain of what they may think of her, of her family, gossip surely traveled fast, but just as quickly as she began, she promptly found her rhythm and soon all the extra noise died with it.

Now a few blocks from her home, as he always does, Andre came to mind. She recalled, soon after she had him, Mike was eager for her to get back in shape. She would put Andre in his stroller and she'd push him on the track listening to the same De La Soul album playing in her ears now. He was small but excitable, communicated through his squeals and kicks as the fresh air hit his tiny face. It became a normal thing for them as he grew, learned to walk and eventually learned to run right alongside her. The vision of her son's tiny legs doing their best to keep pace with hers elicited the truest of smiles and the deepest warmth in her cheeks as Michonne continued to jog down the street. For a the tiniest of moments, she could have sworn she felt him running beside her.

Mike had not so subtlety pushed her into running with Andre, allowing her those happy memories on the track in Atlanta. In fact, Mike had not so subtly pushed her into a lot of things.

Her thoughts shifted from Andre to Mike as Michonne began to reflect on her entire relationship with him. From the whirlwind romance to the death of it all. Most literally and figuratively. He was all about the appearance from the moment they met. Michonne was attending a Young, Black Professionals conference in DC. It was there that she and Mike were acquainted. She was instantly captivated by him. He was a teacher and a family man, smart, charming and deliciously good looking so it was only natural that she would fall hard, and fall fast. He was drawn by the deep purple cocktail dress she wore, her capacity of knowledge making him stay. Mike always made a habit to introduce Michonne as his lawyer girlfriend. They were always engaged in some bit of debate, law, politics education. He boasted on how she will soon be making six figures, how they would move into a large home together, raise kids and live the American dream. For a long time that is what Michonne wanted, or at least she thought she did, but her heart was never fully in his vision. It was not the money that drove her, or any end game. Michonne was in it for the ride, and the ride was becoming tiring. They had Andre, a joy which helped placate things for a while, but it was not enough.

For all the things Mike was, he was who he thought he needed to be. It was never about anyone else, but only what would make his life look the most complete. No matter how fake it was. Andrea saw it, even her parents did at some point. Some people just do not fit, and that is no one's fault. She used to think Mike was self-centered and egotistical, but now she just felt sorry. He moved so fast that he did not even stop to look around at what he had. Michonne just wished she had learned that lesson earlier, maybe she would not be trying to pick up the pieces of her life right now.

Michonne continued to run until she reached the mini mart. Inside she grabbed a cold water bottle from the refrigerated shelves and brought it to the counter.

"Lovely day today, isn't it?" The cashier asked.

Michonne took a look outside through the shop window. "It is. A lovely day."

* * *

It was going on lunchtime when Michonne made her way around the corner of her street. As she approached her home, she could see Rick's truck parked in her driveway. He was hunched at the bottom of her screen door working on patching the dent left by Frank.

She took a moment to admire the scene in front of her. Rick was wearing a crisp white tee and some regular old blue jeans, but as much as she would admit, she liked to look at him in his uniform, something about this down home southern get-up was especially attractive. She studied the muscles of his arms as he worked the compound to fill the dent. He was so focused on the job at hand, he did not notice that she came to stand right behind him.

"Hey." she said, pulling Rick's focus away from his handiwork.

Startled, he dropped the putty knife in his hand and turned to look up at Michonne, who was grinning at his expense. "Oh! hey."

"I thought you said you knew someone who could fix that." She questioned.

Rick stood up to meet her at eye level. "I do. I am him. The someone. " Rick said flashing her a smile of his own. Michonne felt a little flurry in the pit of her stomach. "I rang your bell and knocked on the door, you didn't answer." He said. "Obviously of course." Motioning to all of Michonne. "Doing a little workout?" Rick asked.

Michonne promptly became aware of her sweaty appearance. "Right." She chuckled and self consciously backed away, praying he could not smell her. "Let me, uhm..." Rick pulled the screen door open for her as she took out her keys. "Thanks." She said as she unlocked the door. "Do you want something to drink or something, water, a beer?" She wondered to herself if it was too early for a beer, but it indeed was 5 o'clock somewhere.

"Water is fine. I'm almost done here." Rick said.

"Okay."

Michonne went to fetch ice cold glass of water from the kitchen. She returned to the front porch and handed it to Rick, who took it graciously and began drinking its cool contents.

They stood quiet for a minute before Michonne spoke, "So anything new? With the investigation?"

"Since the last time I saw you? Yesterday?" Rick gave her a sarcastic smirk.

Michonne flushed. She was eager for answers, anything that would mean this nightmare was close to ending. She wasn't sure if this was all Mike, or if it had anything to do with her. There were so many questions but not enough answers.

"Well, we have a guy in custody, the brother of the man who hit Mike's car. We got a warrant, searched his premises early this morning. We did not find much pointing to where the other brother has gone but..." Rick paused. "I shouldn't really be telling you any of this... it's, you know..."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't keep asking you." Michonne apologized. She was just desperate for good news.

"How are you doing?" Rick asked after a while.

A loaded question for sure. One she did not feel the need to sugar coat. So instead she deflected, "I'm going to take a quick shower while you finish up here." She said, returning inside her home.

Rick's eyes followed her as she walked away.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Rick was carrying his tools to the back of his truck when Michonne walked up behind him.

"How much do I owe you?"

He turned to see Michonne dressed in a simple navy blue tank and a loose fitting pair of gray sweatpants. She had her hair up in a towel, her long slender neck glistening from the shower.

"On the house." Rick smirked, throwing his tools in the back of his truck.

Michonne took a look at Rick's handy work. The aluminum was all back in place, you could not even see the monstrous dent that had been there before.

"Saved the day again." She said in thanks. "You're on duty tonight?"

"Later. Night shift." Rick informed, opening the driver seat door. "9."

"Oh."

Rick waited to see if there was a reason for Michonne's question, but when she did not follow up he decided to offer his own bit of small talk.

"How's the comic coming along?"

"I hit another road block." Michonne admitted. "Just with everything that is going on."

"Yeah, I get that." Rick said. "If you need Carl... to you know, give you some pointers or whatever..." Rick chuckled.

Michonne laughed. "I definitely will let you know." She smiled.

They stood quiet now, only the birds in the trees offering up any dialogue. "Well..." Rick said, moving into his truck. "I guess I'll..."

"Chinese?" Michonne blurted out.

Rick got backed out again with a puzzled look on his face. "Chinese?"

"Do you like Chinese? I was going to order some lunch, and I just wondered... since you fixed my door and what not, if you'd like some...Chinese food." She explained scratching the nervous itch at the back of her hand.

Rick slammed the truck door closed again and emphasized, "Love Chinese."

With matching smiles they both proceeded into Michonne's home.

* * *

Rick and Michonne sat at the dining room table, the cartons of food spread across between them as they took part in a lunchtime meal together.

"Yeah but this time around it is a night- _mare_." Rick intoned, twirling his fork in the chow mein. "Carl was never this difficult when it came to potty training." Pausing a moment to enjoy a forkful of noodles, he continued. "She has this look she does, it's a blank face, no emotion, no nothing. And I just know she's going, I rush her to the bathroom but by the time we get there she's already left the golden trail behind.

Michonne's mouth was full of kung pao chicken but that did not stop her from dissolving into laughter at the image of Rick rushing tiny Judith to the bathroom all the while messing up his entire flooring in the process. "Andre was worse." She asserted, wiping a tear that escaped from her eye during her laughing fit. "He used to want to play with it."

"Play with it?" Rick said with raised eyebrows. The look of disgust almost made Michonne erupt again.

"Yes play with it! He'll go to the potty, then be unusually quiet. I walk into the bathroom and he is hunched over with his hand in his mess. Then start crying when I flushed it down the toilet."

Rick let out a loud laugh at Michonne's expense. He had it rough with Judith, but that was on a different level.

"Suffice it to say, there were many times when I did not catch him early enough, and bleach became my best friend." She chortled at the memory. "Kids."

"Yeah, kids." Rick agreed. "I'm not complaining though. I'll take Judith messing up my carpeting everyday if that's what it means to be with her."

Nodding, Michonne's smile slowly faded and she returned to her food.

Rick straightaway noticed the change, "Oh Michonne, I'm sorry I didn't mean any-"

"No, it's fine." Michonne assured, offering a smile. "You're right. If it means scrubbing white tiles 'til the end of time, I'd sign up for another day with my peanut."

Amused, he inquired. "Peanut?"

"Yeah." Michonne grinned. Rick was grateful to see the smile return to her face. Her features lit up so brilliantly it was a crime against humanity for it to be hidden under so much pain.

"Mi-" She started then abruptly stood and walked away from the table and out the room.

Rick's sat up in his seat, a concerned expression on his face, thinking he struck another sensitive cord with Michonne. He was about to follow after her when she returned to the dining room with a blue velvet box. Sitting back down she opened the box and pulled out a picture and handed it to Rick. It was a blurry, black and white sonogram. "Mike... he starting calling Andre 'Peanut' after our first trip to the doctor. 'Lil ol' peanut' is what he said when he first saw the picture of him." That sad smile returning. "It stuck."

"It's a good name." Rick commented.

It should be noted that in this moment Rick wanted to come clean about Mike. There was still danger that loomed. With Daryl Dixon's whereabouts unknown, and no clues as to who the main player in all this was, but Michonne was smart and capable. She'd be able to handle herself, but Rick, he wanted to protect her. At least that is how he would rationalize it, but truth be told, he did not want anything to mess up this moment. He did not want anything to taint this pleasant time he spent with her. That news would surely do it.

Michonne began to pull out more keepsakes from when Andre was a baby that she kept in the box. A picture of her, Mike and Andre when they were leaving the hospital, his hospital bracelet, his newborn footprints. Things she dared not look at since the accident. She passed them to Rick who viewed them fondly whilst asking questions about Andre as a baby. He listened to Michonne as she would describe Andre's charming and not so charming habits, and he shared some of his warm memories of when Carl was still in diapers.

The conversation moved from the dining room to the living room now, and off children and onto each other. Rick learned that Michonne's favorite color was purple, and she preferred red wine to white. Michonne learned about Rick's first and only pet, Kato, a mutt he found when he was seven years old. He had a bum paw when he found him, and after he nursed him back to health he became his best bud until he died when Rick was seventeen.

"I wanted to get Carl and Judy a dog. Every kid should have a dog when they grow up." Rick mused. "You had a dog?"

"A cat name Mellie." Michonne answered.

"A cat?" Rick's face screwed up and the distaste in his voice was very apparent.

"What's wrong with cats?" Michonne playfully challenged.

"Nothing, except they are literally Satan's minions."

Michonne erupted in laughter. "Typical dog lover. Cats have standards. They are very lovable creatures."

"Uh huh."

Michonne flipped her hair behind her, and positioned herself better to face Rick on the sofa. "It's true. They are playful and cuddly and much cleaner than dogs. Clever."

"They're mean, and they scratch." Rick countered.

"Dogs scratch!" Michonne beamed.

"Yeah well... dogs play fetch while a cat just looks at you like you have three eyes. Like they are plotting something. Freaks me out." Rick shuddered at the thought.

Michonne smiled and rested her head against the back of the couch, her face still on Rick. He mirrored her body position, facing her now as well, his arms crossed against his chest he eased his head on the back of the couch.

"So..." Michonne began, "Favorite movie of all time? Don't say Benji."

"Well, even though Benji was a fantastic movie with a fantastic dog," Rick chuckled, "Its without a doubt, On the Waterfront with Marlon Brando. Greatest movie of all time."

"Never saw it." Michonne said, a lock of hair falling in front of her face.

With wide eyes, Rick sat up and looked at Michonne, "You never saw it?" Gently moving the hair from her face and behind her ear.

"Never saw it." Michonne shook her head as it still rested on the sofa.

"We are going to need to rectify that." Rick promised.

"We are." Michonne agreed.

They sat in each others company for a while longer, both feeling the atmosphere change around them. The air was charged and the room was quiet, their feelings right now hard to explain. Rick knew that he felt an overwhelming urge to move closer to Michonne on the couch, and Michonne knew that she wanted him to.

Rick was looking out in front of him calm and relaxed, when his eyes focused on the time displayed on the cable box. "Is it really 7:30? Time really got away from us."

"Yeah." Michonne agreed, rubbing her hands against her thighs, she sat up straight. "You should probably be heading to work soon."

Rick nodded, "Yeah."

"Off to fight crime and such." She added.

"More like trying not to doze off at my desk while filling out incident reports." Rick corrected.

"Riveting." Michonne smiled and got up to walk Rick to the front door. "No falling asleep on the job, Officer. King County needs its Knight in shining armor."

"Not everyone's." he reasoned

She opened the door for him, "So just mine then, huh?"

Rick stopped, and faced Michonne. His blue eyes bore into her and for a moment Michonne thought she may have said something wrong. His features relaxed into a half smile. "Just yours." He said. "Goodnight Michonne."

"Goodnight Rick."

Michonne closed the door behind him and stood in the hallway. Her back resting against it. "Oh my God." She said out loud to herself. "I'm falling for a married man."

* * *

Maybe it was because the sky was a beautiful blend of orange and pink, majestically overpowering the blue. It could have been because there was no traffic on his drive back or that he was sated with a stomach full of chow mein noodles. No, that wasn't it. He was without a doubt content in the moment, but it had nothing to do with Chinese food.

Before heading to the station to start his shift, Rick had to take care of urgent business somewhere else first. It was imperative that he get this done now while his mind was clear and his heart untroubled. Rick pulled out the brown kraft envelope from the glove compartment of his truck and made his way up the walkway to Lori's home.

* * *

Lori swallowed the last bit of wine in her glass before making her way to answer the door. She should not have been surprised to see that it was Rick again. Lately his unannounced visits seemed to be growing more frequently.

"Hey." She said, running her hands through her hair. "What's going on?"

"Here." Rick said passing her the envelope he held in his hand.

Lori opened it, and pulled out the contents within, revealing divorce papers. Shocked, she looked back at Rick as if he was yanking her chain. Sure, it was something she wanted, but he was hell bent against it. What changed? Why now?

"They're signed." He said, as she looked them over. His voice was firm and steady. Something definitely changed. "I'd like to say goodnight to the kids. If that would be okay."

Lori moved to the side allowing him to enter, still wondering what possessed him to come over so late at night to give the papers to her after months of stalling. Still she was relieved inside, the loose ends were beginning to wrap up. All at one, Lori remembered what she had been doing before Rick rang the doorbell.

She scurried after Rick, but it was too late, Rick was staring at the screen of her laptop that sat on the coffee table. The real estate webpage wide open for all to see.

"California?" Rick said his face steely. He glared at Lori. "Why are you looking at homes in California?"

"Rick..." Lori began, but he cut her off.

"Are you kidding me Lori?" His voice cracking with emotion that wasn't there a moment ago.

"I'm just..." She started, and again he interrupted her.

"I hope you plan on going alone." He huffed.

Now she flushed red. "Of course I'm not going alone! They're my kids and I- "

"Dad?" Carl walked into the living room having heard his father's voice. "Hey Dad!" He shouted, running to him, giving him a hug.

"Hey son." Rick replied returning his embrace. His voice calmer at the sight of his boy.

"What are you doing here?" Carl questioned excitedly.

He could not tell him that he came to deliver divorce papers to his mother after he had promised he would make it work. That they would be back together again. A promise he deeply regretted at the moment, made worse by new information. "I was just coming by to say goodnight to you before I go to work." He explained. "Where's your sister?"

"She's sleeping already." Carl informed. Rick and Carl walked to Judy's room where she was indeed sleeping soundly. He gave her a kiss on her forehead, then left the room. Carl following him like a shadow.

"When are we going to hang out again?" Carl asked. "I was reading all those comics Michonne gave me and I wanted to show her this thing I was reading online about Namor and this huge fight he got into with The Hulk, it was pretty amazing but then..."

Rick put his hand on Carl's shoulder to slow him down. His excitement evident, but truth be told Rick was too crossed to give him the attention he deserved. "Listen bud. We are going to hang out very soon." Rick looked back at Lori who was watching them now. "I promise."

"Dad's gotta go." Rick said giving his son another hug.

"Okay." Carl sighed, retiring back to his room.

"Stop promising him stuff." Lori scoffed, she walked to the bar to refill her glass of wine. "I'm not changing my mind about California."

"You're not moving my kids across the country away from me Lori. You can do what you want, but I won't allow that. Haven't you've taken enough?"

She, sipped from her glass and let out a deep breath, "You should go."

"We need to talk about this!" Rick shouted, not worried about Carl hearing them anymore.

Lori's hard eyes penetrated Rick, "You pretend like you're some Saint, walking around here and I'm just the bad guy. I tell you Rick, whatever black hearted I possess, it came from you. You made me this way." Her voice louder and sharper, "I don't even recognize myself anymore. That's you. You did this to me!" She finished her wine in one gulp. "Just leave."

Without another word, Rick stomped to the door, but he heard her yelling on his way out.

"I already put in an offer! We're moving in a couple of weeks! You make your goddamned plans now and we'll let the courts figure the rest out!"

Rick slammed the door to the house. His earlier disposition completely gone now. Rick was livid.

* * *

At the station, Rick arrives in time to relieve the officers on duty before him. In no mood to engage in idle chit chat, He walked to his office straightaway, closing his door behind him. His brain was running a mile a minute, the collar of his uniform hot and tight around his neck. Months, days, wasted trying to reason with her. He felt so foolish. Their vows meant absolute shit. Rick scanned his room, every accolade, medal, photograph, newspaper clipping of his accomplishments, it meant nothing. The countless hours spent here, away from his boy, his baby...his wife, it meant nothing.

Overcome with rage, Rick ripped everything off his walls. The papers on his desk now littered the floor. The keyboard to his desktop ripped from its place, he threw the monitor across the room. He did not stop until the desk was bare. He took his anger out on his office, kicking his chair, pulling out the phone cord, punching the cabinets around him, until he grew tired. Until there was no more for him to give. The room was now chaos, a perfect visual of his life right now.

Another officer came rushing hearing the commotion that just took place. "Grimes!" He shouted, from behind the closed door. "Everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Rick opened the door. "I'm fine." He said pushing back the sweaty curls on his head. "I uh... I just need a few."

* * *

Getting himself together, Rick began to put his office back in place. He started on reassembling his computer. There was a crack in his monitor, but he could easily have it replaced. Rick laggardly gathered his files, and piled them on his desk. He'd sort through them later. He did not bother hanging anything back on the wall, what would be the point. He looked around the floor for his picture of Carl and Judy with Lori, but he could not find where it flew during his rampage.

He got everything back together in good time, and he sat down at his desk and began to look over his files. He gathered up all the papers that had to do with the Dixon case. They were able to find a substantial stash of meth, enough to allow them to charge him and hold him a little longer. With more digging they were bound to find more trouble and soon will have enough leverage to get him to give up some information about his brother.

For the next hour Rick was lost in thought. He tried to log incident reports, and he got through some, but his head was elsewhere. The mere idea of being thousands of miles away from his kids set his teeth on edge. It was hard enough to live alone, but at least he could drive a short distance to see them. Now, he would need to hop on a plane or drive cross country for hours just to say hello. All that time missed. Judith already seem to grow two inches every time he seen her. Going months without seeing them? Having to alternate holidays and vacation time? Needing to stuff months of catching up in a mere week of time off. It was unacceptable and Rick felt like he'd been backed into a corner.

Rick was staring into the abyss when his phone pinged. One new text message from Michonne.

 _"Just making sure you didn't fall asleep. King County needs you :)"_

Just reading a few words, and Rick began to relax. He wished he was back in her home. He wish he never had to leave for work, and he wished he never went to Lori's. Rick wished he was back at the lake, just him and Michonne. Just her smile and a bottle of Jack. King County needs Rick Grimes, but Rick Grimes needed Michonne.

* * *

It was 3am and his shift was over. Rick turned out the lights to his office and headed out the station. Down the road, He was stopped at a red light. Turning left and he'd be alone in his home in five minutes. Rick turned right.

* * *

 _ **A/N: As always thanks for reading. In the coming chapters things will start moving fast. We will get some Lori backstory, Some Mike backstory, We will find out more about the Dixons. Questions will be answered, and Richonne will evolve. Please leave your thoughts, I love reading what you think. Love 3.**_


	9. Chapter 9

The sun was setting in a town miles away from King County as a loud motorcycle ripped through the streets looking for a place to settle for the night. Unbeknownst to the rider, in the same moment, a young boy tore from his mother's grip as she was preoccupied exchanging pleasantries with one of her neighbors. The young boy's attention set on chasing a stray brown cat from the sidewalk and into the street.

"Chad!" The mother screamed in horror as she saw her son in the blazing path of the oncoming chopper.

The rider jammed the front brake posthaste, avoiding the child who stood petrified in the middle of the drive. The rider was still on his bike as he lost balance and skid across the asphalt, tearing the skin on his left arm.

"Oh my! Mister are you okay?" The mother asked, picking up her son who was unharmed, but now crying uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry."

Without so much of a word or a nod, the rider picked himself up and his bike, brushed bits of gravel off his sore, bleeding arm, and rode off, leaving the town's bystanders in stunned bewilderment.

* * *

Daryl Dixon sat under the dim light in his run down motel room. Taking a swig of his whiskey, he wrapped his arm in a long, white bandage. Wincing as he swathe the fabric around his upper arm and down his forearm all the way to his hand. Most of his outer layer of skin gone. When he was done, he switched off the light and moved to his bed, but as usual since that fateful night, sleep alluded him. He barely watched the TV as it lowly hummed some advertisement about carpet cleaner. The spokesman poured wine on the beige carpet piece, and demonstrated the miraculous cleaner as the red liquid all but disappeared. He saw these things, and he heard the testimonials, but none of it registered. The woman on TV saying, 'My life has never been easier!' But all he could hear was the high pitch sound of tires screeching. 'You will never need to scrub again!' Except all he heard was the crack of tiny bones against the cold pavement.

Daryl closed his eyes and took another swig from the bottle, bathing in his torment. He opened them again but against all that is natural, he saw that boy. Standing at the foot of his bed, the TV glowing behind his small frame. His almond shaped eyes were gloomy, glass shards protruding from his skin. Daryl's skin began to crawl and his room grew cold as he stared at the apparition in front of him.

"What do you want?!" He drunkenly spewed.

No answer.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT!?" He cried out again, throwing his bottle, still halfway full of the devil's liquid.

The bottle shattered against the wall behind the television and the little boy's face softened. The glass shards that were embedded in his skin disappeared, the wounds healed and for a split second Daryl saw the little boy smile. A smile that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Those little brown eyes began to glow a hellfire red. His mouth opened and an ungodly bellow followed, "MOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYY!"

* * *

Michonne turned out the light in her home office. After Rick left her home for work, she was able to get some of her own work done with her comic, getting it very close to completion. That just seemed to be the way it went when it came to Rick. He generated a sense of calm and clarity within her that she could not explain. He was like a button of simplicity where life was in order and things made sense.

It was almost 2am, and sleep was calling. After brushing her teeth and getting into her pajamas, Michonne plugged her cell phone in the charger by her bed. She checked one last time to see if Rick had responded to her earlier text. He hadn't. Chalking it up to his ever demanding job, Michonne placed her phone down and curled under her covers, allowing her mind to replay the afternoon she had with Rick. A smile played across her lips as her eyes shut, Michonne welcomed sleep and sweet dreams.

* * *

It felt like her eyes just closed when the chime of Michonne's door bell jogged her from sleep. She looked at the time on her phone, it was 3:45 in the morning. Absolutely nothing good comes at 3:45 in the morning, she thought to herself. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest as she grabbed her purple silk robe that hung behind her bedroom door and covered her body. There was another chime, and this time an impatient knock followed. She opened her bedroom closet and pulled out the Louisville Slugger she kept there in case of emergencies and finally made her way to the front door. Peeping through the window, she saw a figure leaving her front porch. Flipping the porch light switch on, she made out the brown police uniform. Michonne opened the door.

"Rick?" She groggily questioned, still not fully awake.

He turned around and faced her. She could see the rim of his eyes were red, as if he had been crying.

"I'm sorry. I should have called..." His voice was shaky. "...But I wasn't thinking. All I knew is that I wanted to be here." He tried to explain.

"Come." Michonne motioned to him. "Get inside." Her heart began to return to its normal pace now that she knew it was just Rick and not a murderer, because with the trajectory her life was on now, it is fully what she expected.

Rick entered her home, and went straight for the couch. Michonne could tell that he had a lot weighing on his mind, but her gut feeling told her that this time it was not about her or Mike. She advanced to her bar and poured Rick a stiff drink. He definitely looked like he needed one.

She passed him the drink and he received it graciously. "Thank you." He murmured and proceeded to finish its contents in one gulp. Michonne took the glass from his hand and went to pour him another. She brought his drink, as well as the bottle, with her and sat beside him. This time Rick slowly sipped, feeling the burning liquid travel down his throat. He stared into the glass, and Michonne observed him, waiting until he was ready to tell her why he was there, and what had changed since she last saw him.

After a while Rick started, "I'm sorry for busting in on you like this. It was very-"

"Don't." Michonne said cutting him off. "Tell me what happened."

Rick swallowed hard, and took another swig of his drink. His brows knitted together as the anger rose within him once again, but for the sake of Michonne he tried to keep it at bay.

"She's taking my kids." He said simply as he continued staring into his glass. Michonne inched closer to him on the couch. She lifted the bottle and poured more of the brown liquid into his glass. "After I left you, I went by her house to give her the signed divorce papers. I just couldn't wait."

Michonne decided not to ask why he couldn't wait, though it was the first question that popped into her mind. Rather, she nodded, indicating to him to go on.

"So I get there, and I walk in to say goodnight to my kids, and I see her computer still open on the real estate site. She did not expect me to come inside. She wasn't going to even tell me. She was looking at houses in California." His voice cracked as he spit out the last words. His blue eyes becoming misty. "I got so angry." He balled his hand in a tight fist. "Screamed she made an offer when I was walking out the door. I don't know how true that is, but I can't..." A short whimper escaped his lips and Michonne placed her hand on his balled up fist causing him to soften. Rick turned his head away from her, he couldn't bear to have Michonne see him cry, but the tears were threatening and there was no stopping them. "My kids." He whispered. "Mine."

Michonne delicately moved her hand to his chin, turning his head so he would look at her. He did not have to hide. His face was bleak and the pain in his eyes hurt even her own heart. The steady stream of tears that would no longer be denied, stained his beige uniform shirt. "I can't live without them, Michonne."

With a sternness in her voice she looked Rick directly in his eyes so he would understand. "You won't." She affirmed, wiping the wet trails away from his cheek with her thumb."You won't."

Michonne got up from the couch and went to the linen closet, returning with a pillow and a blanket."Here." She said passing him the items. Rick took them politely, thankful that she wasn't sending him home to stew in worry and sadness.

"You can sleep on the couch, it's comfortable. For the most part." Michonne moved the couch pillows to the side so he could lay down.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"Sleep now and when we wake up we'll figure it out." Michonne started dimming out the lights in the living room. Before exiting she turned to him, "No one is going to take your children away Rick. Unless you let them." She glided back over to him, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. "You don't let them." She whispered as she held his face in her hand. "You fight."

Rick's gaze followed Michonne as she left him to rest. Her words resonating in his head. Her touch echoing on his cheek. She spoke, so sure, so true, and he believed her. He would fight, and at once he began to feel like he would win.

* * *

Rick was awaken by the slam of the front door. He shielded his eyes from the bright sunlight that now filled Michonne's living room.

"Sorry." Michonne mouthed apologetically, as she tiptoed past the living room and to the kitchen, carrying a large brown paper bag.

Rick released a yawn and stretched out his muscles as he sat up from the couch. It was comfortable, for the most part. Heavy emphasis on the most part. Still he was grateful to Michonne for allowing him to sleep over, instead of being alone. He stood up, and followed her path to the kitchen, where she was standing at the island, unloading her groceries.

"How are you feeling?" She said, pressing the button on the coffee pot to start the brew.

Rick waved his hand in a so-so motion and Michonne nodded. "No worries. You'll feel better in a few."

"What time is it?" he drowsily asked, raking his fingers through his disheveled hair.

"10:30." Michonne answered, according to the time on the microwave display. "Take a seat."

Rick sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and watched Michonne as she busily moved about.

"So..." She began, pulling out her electric griddle from the cabinet underneath the kitchen island, placing it between them. "I called Andrea this morning, and..." She plugged in the griddle and turned it on, then grabbed a mixing bowl from one of the overhead cabinets, she continued. "...And without getting into the dirty details of your situation, she said she will take your case."

Rick regarded Michonne with a look of confusion. "My case?"

Retrieving the milk and eggs from the refrigerator, Michonne poured the box of pancake mix in a bowl and began to whisk the ingredients together as she explained further.

"The divorce, getting sole custody of your children." She eyed Rick as he processed the information. She could practically see the million and one thoughts flooding his brain. After getting her pancake mix to the right consistency, she placed the bowl to the side and fetched the cooking spray. Still giving time for Rick to process what she was telling him. "She is the best family lawyer I know, and you'll need one."

Rick sighed. "Michonne I don't have the mo-"

"Don't" She said pouring the pancake mix on the griddle.

"I don't have the money to afford a big shot lawyer from Atlanta." He finished despite Michonne telling him not to.

Michonne stopped what she was doing and removed the magnet on the refrigerator that was holding up a business card. "Here." She said passing it to him whilst perfectly flipping over her pancake when the mix bubbled that sweet golden brown. "You don't need money." She started. "You don't need to say thank you. All you need to do is make sure you do everything in your power to protect your children. That is the most important thing."

Rick marveled at Michonne as she went back to pouring another pancake. Her features were serious and focused on the task at hand and he could not help but admire the woman in front of him. He witnessed her lose everything and yet she did not allow the world to break her. She allowed him into her life when he was shut out every place else. She expected nothing, but he knew he wanted to give her everything. "Thank you for this." He said now looking at the card in his hand.

 _ **Andrea J. Harrison.**_

"She will take good care of you Rick." Michonne promised. "Now, you pour the coffee, I'll get the bacon. A good breakfast is the best cure for hangovers and bitchy ex-wives."

She offered him a small smile and he readily returned it with one of his own, chuckling, "Sign me up."

* * *

Michonne was checking her emails in her study and pretending that she was not thinking about Rick being naked 40 feet away in the bathroom. It was such an inappropriate time in both of their lives to be thinking about such things, but she could not help but visualize the steam surrounding him, the hot water running down his bare chest. It has been such a long time since she's been with another man, and Rick, he wasn't just any man. He was THE man. The man that she wanted. Michonne visualized herself in that shower alongside him. The water cascading over their bodies as their tongues danced in unison. She imagined his strong hands holding her, feeling her, caressing her. Her hand was making its way in between her thighs when a light rapping on the door pulled her out of her thoughts and back into the present.

"Oh, hey!" She said startled, thankful that her desk hid her impropriety. Rick stood in the doorway, just a towel hanging low on his waist. Still wet and his V cut deliciously visible, it took everything for Michonne to look him in the eye. "Can I do you? I mean, What can I do for you?"

Rick leaned against the door frame amused. Michonne shifted her eyes back to her computer screen trying to compose her flustered state. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare toothbrush would you?" He had his bag of spare clothes, but he did not plan for an overnight stay.

Toothbrush? Michonne could handle a toothbrush. "You're in luck." She said. "Dental hygiene happens to be one of my favorite hobbies."

"Is it now?" His eyebrow rose in a curious playful way.

Michonne smiled, getting up from behind the desk and passing Rick, she got a whiff of his fresh scent, that only did more to ignite the flame that was growing within her. She entered the bathroom, still steaming from his shower, opening the medicine cabinet she pulled out a brand new toothbrush for him. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He drawled. That accent almost making her knees buckle. Michonne nodded and sauntered away before she embarrassed herself, leaving Rick to finish up.

* * *

After he was done getting dressed, Rick returned to Michonne's office. "So this is where the magic happens, huh?" He asked walking inside.

Michonne regarded Rick detecting how well he cleans up. Crisp black tee, regular blue jeans. The boots. "I guess you can say that." She smiled.

Rick looked around at the artwork that covered the wall. Abstract paintings, visual prints, and of course a plethora of comic covers. "All these yours?" He inquired, looking at one of the comic covers that was framed.

"That one, yes. The painting over there I bought at a flea market." She responded.

Rick continued to look around the room when he came upon a large sized portfolio book, leaning against the bookshelf. "May I?"

She granted him her approval, and with a tinge on anxiousness she waited for his reaction. She had not looked at that thing in years.

Rick opened the black portfolio to the first page. It was a charcoal sketch of a baby smiling, lifting his head from under a blanket. "Andre?" He asked.

"Mmm Hmm." Michonne sparkled, getting up to get a closer look at her sketch from so long ago. "I drew that from a snapshot I took of him when he was about 14 months. He was practicing his crawling, and somehow he got under one of his blankets, poked his head out from underneath, and discovered his own game of peek-a-boo." She chortled.

Rick enjoyed her laugh. That soft sound was the sweetest molasses to his ears. "It's really good." He commented and continued thumbing through more of her work.

"You think?"

"Yeah, I think. Really good." He said genuinely, looking through the pages. Rick landed on the page of a family of four. They were walking on a beach a small dog and cat following behind them. The picture perfect family.

"I guess at one point I thought that was what my life would look like. Certainly not what whatever this is now." Michonne mused.

"You and I both." Rick replied.

Michonne leaned against her desk in the office, an idea weighing heavy on her mind since Rick picked up that portfolio. "Since I have you here," she initiated, "Maybe you can help me with something."

Rick shook his head approvingly and returned the portfolio to its previous resting place.

* * *

Michonne opened the door and hit the light switch of the room she had been avoiding for weeks. The air was dense and stifled. Dust particles could be seen floating in the air through the stream of sun coming in from the window.

"I haven't been able to muster up the courage to pack his stuff away. It would really make it all real." Michonne confessed solemnly. "I just thought maybe with someone else here, with you here, I could..."

Rick settled his hand on her shoulder. She made so much progress since that first night, but even with everything that was going on, and everything that happened, she still lost her only child. That pain, just does not go away. All Rick could do, all he wanted to do was help alleviate some of the hurt. It will never be easy, but at least she would not be alone.

"Let's do it." Rick responded.

They began with the clothes, packing them away in boxes. They worked with a quiet concentration, removing the clothes from the dresser and closet, folding them away. Sometimes Michonne would get caught looking at a batman t-shirt for too long. Remembering her son's tiny body in it and Rick would take over, folding it and putting it in one of the boxes. With each passing minute, the burden felt lighter, she began to open up more.

"Andre absolutely hated this suit but I thought it was cute." Michonne remarked holding up the brown, tweed three piece suit in her hand. "There is a hat somewhere to go with it." She said looking around. "He looked straight out of Harlem Nights."

"Harlem Nights?" Rick queried.

Michonne peered at Rick over the hanger. "Harlem Nights. You know, Eddie Murphy, Richard Pryor? 'You gonna respect me!'" She mimicked, looking at Rick like he should know this. Everyone knows Harlem Nights.

Rick laughed and shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"Wow." Michonne mocked in disbelief.

"Don't wow me." Rick laughed. "You never seen 'On the Waterfront'! That is 'wow' worthy."

"Guess we need a movie night then." She proposed.

Thrilled at the idea of another reason to spend time with Michonne, Rick concurred. "I guess we do."

After spending about an hour on clothes, they moved on to toys. Andre had twice as many play things, than he had clothing, so Rick and Michonne were both in for a task.

"Do you think Carl would like this?" Michonne asked holding up a fairly new Superman action figure. "It's a special edition Cyborg Superman. He's not too old for action figures is he?"

"Naw, not too old." Rick smiled. "He'll love it."

"Good." Michonne said, going back into the box. "We should set up a box for Carl. I'd feel better knowing someone who will get to enjoy some of these things that Andre can't anymore. Maybe some of the good, older toys would be nice for Judith too. They are mainly boy toys, but honestly screw the gender normative."

Rick contemplated Michonne with an exorbitant amount of adoration. She was a special kind of woman, and the flutter he started to feel in the pit of his stomach was letting him know just how special she was becoming to him.

* * *

Three hours and fourteen boxes later Andre's entire room was packed up. All that was left was the furniture set: a bed, dresser, and bookshelf. Michonne ultimately decided she would donate it to the Salvation Army along with the clothes that she did not want to keep. Scanning the empty walls, the room felt lifeless. It was supposed to be the bedroom that Andre grew up in. The bedroom he would bring his first girlfriend to. The bedroom she should be packing away when he was going off to college. The bedroom where he would make memories. Now it was just empty, and that left a dull pain on Michonne's heart.

Michonne carried out a box to Rick's truck. "Ok, so here is the last one for Carl." She placed the box on the flatbed next to the other two and wiped her brow. "Whatever he doesn't want you can just give it back to me and I'll donate it with the rest of the stuff" she informed. "Also, there are these plush zoo animals set that I think Judy would really love, but you should probably wash them first since Andre hadn't played with them since he was three."

Rick nodded in understanding. "Thank you Michonne. For this, for this morning, for everythang."

"You're welcome, Rick. Thank you for doing this with me. I'm not sure if I could have done it without you."

"You could've." He said, closing the door of his flatbed and walking to where she stood. "But I'm glad I could help."

Michonne met his gaze. Their eyes now partaking in a silent conversation as the evening breeze swirled on around them. They both felt the change in the atmosphere that surrounded them as they became acutely aware of what has been brewing between them since the day they met. That clarity that they would only acknowledge away from the presence of the other. An invisible chain, a pull that neither one could control and no longer could they deny. Rick could feel his heart quicken as Michonne's rich brown eyes bore into him. His breathing became shallow. She could see him. All of him. The scars, the regret, the loneliness. He was vulnerable and exposed, but he did not care because he could see her too. Her strength, her courage, her love.

"Michonne..." Rick finally spoke in a voice so low she could barely make out her name.

"Yes?"

He cleared his throat and delicately captured the loc that was hanging on the side of her face. He twisted it gently around his finger. "I should have kissed you that night." He professed. "That night and every moment after."

The flame that had been ignited in Michonne was now set ablaze. She heard him ask the question that she so desperately wanted to hear, "Can I kiss you now?"

Without missing a beat she answered, "Yes."

Rick seized Michonne in his arms and captured her tender lips. He relished in their fullness, soft and inviting. A quiet moan floated from Michonne as their passion reached depths that neither realized they had. She gripped at the sides of his black shirt and pulled herself further into him, wanting to meld into him. Their tongues tangled together in pure bliss. This kiss they both felt came weeks too late and right on time.

* * *

Rick sat at his desk in the station in a much better mood than he had been yesterday. He could not stop thinking about his kiss with Michonne. He licked his lips still tasting her there, kicking himself that he did not stay, but rationalized that he would be back very soon for another taste.

The evening shift was slow tonight, and there were no leads in Mike's case, so Rick pulled out the business card that Michonne had given him earlier. As much as he wanted to live in his happy bubble with Michonne, he had to deal with the Lori situation first.

 _ **The Law Offices of**_

 _ **Andrea J. Harrison.**_

There was an office number, fax number, and address. She was located in the heart of downtown Atlanta. Rick powered on his computer, and typed in Andrea's name in the search engine, just to get some background information on the woman who so graciously decided to take his case pro bono. Rick found that she really was the elite of Atlanta law, winning over 94% of her cases. This made him even more optimistic about his chances of getting custody of his children. On the firm's website, he clicked on her bio.

 _'Our top family lawyer, Andrea Jennifer Harrison, graduated Cum Laude, from South Atlanta Law University...'_

Rick's senses began to tingle as he reread the opening sentence. _Andrea Jennifer Harrison._ "Jennifer?" He questioned out loud in his empty office.

Rick picked up his phone and called Officer Duane into his office.

* * *

"Did you get in touch with Shane?" Rick asked the young Officer when he returned to the station.

"No, he's off tonight and his phone is going straight to voicemail." Officer Duane reported.

"Alright, fine. Just have Mike sit in my office, instead of the conference room. I'll be there soon. Rick went to try to get a hold of Shane one more time.

* * *

Mike was sitting across from Rick's desk, his mind racing as to why Rick summoned him from his hotel room late this evening. It was going on 9 p.m.

"Thanks for seeing me again, Mike." Rick said as he entered the office, closing the door behind him. "How are you holding up?"

"Alright. How much longer do I have to play dead? I'm losing my mind here and my father is driving me nuts. Won't leave my side." Mike answered truthfully.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. We are still searching for the man that came to your hospital room that night. Daryl Dixon. It is highly unlikely that he will try and come after you again, but what I need from you is more information about your girlfriend."

"Michonne?" Mike asked bewildered.

"No. Not Michonne." Rick did his best to hide his annoyance. "Your girlfriend before your accident. Jenny?"

"Oh." Mike look to the floor discourage. He did not want to remember Jenny. He did not want to confront any notion that she could be a part of this situation. He held an inkling of hope that she would actually turn up one day, say she took an impromptu vacation like she always talked about.

"Tell me what she looked like. Where you met her, I need all the details about the relationship." Rick informed.

"Well then, we're gonna be here a while and I did not eat dinner." Mike said. "Mind if we get some?"

"Sure." Rick nodded. He left Mike in the office and made his way to the front desk secretary to ask her to order a couple of burgers and shakes. Rick pulled out his cell checking if Shane had got back to him. Nothing.

While Rick was gone, Mike paced around the room. The thought that Jenny was involved in any of this was heartbreaking. The idea that she had just left him would be better than this. It would be better than her being responsible for the death of his son. For him being responsible for the death of his son, in a way more clear than an icy road and a blind curve.

Mike covered his face in his hands and told himself that this was all protocol. Nothing would come of it. His eyes roamed around the office, noting that the walls had dust prints from where frames use to hang. "Must be moving into a new office." Mike speculated to himself. He noticed a small brown frame jutting out from behind one of the filing cabinets. Thinking it fell from off the wall, Mike walked over to retrieve it.

* * *

Rick returned to his office, "Alright, I ordered us some burgers and shakes so we should..." Stopping in his tracks he saw Mike standing in the middle of the room his attention focused on something in his hand.

Mike turned to face Rick He raised the frame in his hand, revealing the picture Rick kept on his desk of Lori and the children. The one he lost during the rampage on his office yesterday. Mike looked at Rick befuddled, "Why do you have a picture of Jenny? And who are these children?"

* * *

Michonne smiled as she pressed send. She finished the final panel of her comic, and with a sigh of welcomed relief she sent the final product to her editor. She was overcome with the spirit accomplishment. She tackled Andre's bedroom, she finished her comic, and she kissed Rick. She really kissed Rick and she could not wait to kiss him again. Everything was coming together. Life was starting to feel right. Michonne was happy.

She entered the kitchen to pour herself a drink, when the doorbell chimed. The corners of her lips turned up at the prospect of Rick leaving work early to surprised her again at her front door. Smoothing out her clothes, though she was only wearing a tank and some yoga pants, she walked to the front door and opened it. Her smile quickly faded when the man who stood in front of her was not Deputy Sheriff Rick Grimes, but a stranger in a leather vest, his left arm wrapped in dirty white bandages.

"Can I help you?" Michonne said uneasily.

"No ma'am. I don't think you can."

* * *

 **A/N: Shout out to those of you who got it. God dammit Lori! I promised you back story and in the next installment that is exactly what you will get. We will finally find out just exactly what is Lori's deal. Thanks for sticking with me and continuing to read this story that has officially become my longest and yet my favorite to write. I don't deserve your dedication but I'm grateful for it anyway. As always let me know what you think in the comments!**


	10. Chapter 10

**_A/N:_** ** _Before you get started I want to thank everyone who has reached out to me, who know I've been having a tough go at it lately. Reading and Writing Richonne has brought me great peace during this time and hopefully I will be back to my former *better* self soon._**

 ** _This chapter is mainly focusing on Lori, taking place largely in the past and hopefully will do well in answering some questions as to why she is the way she is now._** ** _We jump back and forth through the timeline in this chapter,_** _it_ _alics_ ** _signifying the past. Richonne will be back in the next chapters, so no worries. There are a few themes in this chapter that can be triggering for some, so proceed with caution._**

* * *

 **Past: 14 Years Prior To**

 ** _"Fill my heart with gladness_**

 ** _Take away my sadness_**

 ** _Ease my troubles that's what you do..."_**

 _The fine sounds of the piano delighted her heart as she swayed in his arms to the melodic arrangement of notes. All the work, planning and preparation for this one moment of fulfillment had finally paid off. Better than she could have ever imagined. She rested her head on his shoulder as they both adhered to the rhythm._

 _"There's a love that's divine, and it's yours and it's mine..."_

 _The lyrics coming from him in his soothing southern twang as he quietly sang along in her ear, warmed her soul. All she wanted in this world was to love and be loved, and she found it._

 _Closing her eyes, she melted further into him, listening as he serenaded her._

 _They stayed this way, lost on the dance floor in a world of their own, until an acquainted voice broke its way through their serene state._

 _"Mind if I steal a dance with the bride? I promise to give her back." He joked._

 _Giving her a kiss on the forehead, he peeled his body away, Lori already missing his touch. "You better." He smiled at him, passing her into his best friend's waiting arms._

 _Lori shifted the tail of her wedding dress behind her then rested her palm on his shoulder, the other taking his awaiting hand. He locked his fingers with hers and placed his other hand at her hip._

 _"You look beautiful." He said as they slowly began to move to the music._

 _"Thank you, Shane."_

 _"Far more beautiful than I could ever have dreamed." He added._

 _Lori felt him snake his hand from her hip to the small of her back pulling her closer, just enough to remain proper, smelling the first hint of whiskey on his breath. It was subtle, just under the mask of his cologne._

 _"Are you happy, Lori?" He asked, still moving in cadence with the song._

 _"Very." She answered. And she was. Her entire life had been molded for this moment. From the day she was born, be good, find a good man, have good kids, live a good life. She was on track for just that. "I am."_

 _Shane nodded pulling her even closer to him where they continued to dance quietly together, neither saying another word. When the song ended, Shane placed a kiss on her cheek, just at the edge of her ear and whispered for only her to hear, "I love you, Lori."_

 _Alone in the middle of the dance floor, Lori watched befuddled, as he walked away from her, scratching the back of his head and out the large ballroom doors. Shane had been her friend for a long time and she loved him too, they told each other many times before, but why tonight did it feel so different? She scanned the room to find Rick, the one thing she was sure of. Her eyes fell on him as he was chatting with her parents at the table. His eyes found hers and the sweetest smile graced his lips as he beheld her._

 _His wife._

 _Her husband._

* * *

 **Present Day:**

Rick stood still in the doorway of his office as he stared at the framed photograph in Mike's hand. What he said to him was not registering. The string of words he was putting together made no sense. And he was still talking.

"This is Jenny! Her hair, her smile. Why do you have this? What is-?"

Rick felt his skin grow hotter each passing second as he watched Mike wave the picture of his family around. There was a mistake. There had to be a mistake obviously because the person in that picture was not named Jenny. But Mike, he was still talking.

"Is this a joke? Is this some kind of game? What the fu-?"

Hearing enough, Rick bellowed, "Shut the fuck up!" Silencing Mike where he stood. He stepped inside his office and slammed the door behind him. Walking up to Mike, Rick snatched the photo from his hand and walked around to sit behind his desk. Taking a hint, Mike sat in the chair opposite of him.

There had to be a mistake, Rick thought to himself. There was no way in hell. He placed the frame in his top drawer and closed it. Mike watched him closely, a sharp expression fixed on his face. One of anger and suspicion, but still he stayed silent. Finally, Rick regarded him. Taking in a deep breath he began, "Tell m-".

The vibration coming from his pant pocket interrupted him. Sure it was Shane, Rick retrieved his phone quickly, but instead of his best friend and partner, it was Michonne. For the first time since he met her he pressed the ignore button on his phone, sending her to his voicemail. This time she would have to wait.

Rick looked back at Mike and began again. "Tell me everything. From the beginning."

* * *

"Mmm... damn." He groaned reaching up to grab both of her breasts as she bounced with reckless abandon up and down his hard member. "Fuck Lori!"

She held his hands to her chest and continued to grind against him with increasing vigor. Shutting her eyes she tried to commit the feeling of Shane inside her to memory. This was likely the last time she would be with him. She was a plague now having destroyed so much, it was time to stop. She banked in her memory how he filled her up, his grip on her breasts, the sound of her name gruffly leaving his tongue. She would never tell him just how much he meant to her now after everything. Now that she made many mistakes, some really bad ones, but letting him go was the worst of all. If she would have chose him, followed him, her life would not be what it was. She could feel the sting of tears threatening to fall as she bucked against him. He removed his hands from her breasts, bringing his thumb to her clit and she submitted to Shane making her cum for one last time.

* * *

 **Past: 5 Years Prior To**

 _The door slowly creaked open and she heard her husband enter their bedroom. Lori turned on the lamp and sat up in the bed observing him as he placed his sheriff's hat quietly on the bureau. His face was troubled and she knew immediately that he had a difficult night on the job._

 _"What's wrong?" Lori questioned, getting up, she walked around the bed to where he stood and began helping him out of his uniform shirt._

 _"Just tired." Rick answered. He worked on his belt buckle as Lori got finished with his last shirt button. "Rough shift."_

 _Stepping away from him, she let him get the rest of his shirt and pants off. "Wanna talk about it?"_

 _"Not really. I'm just tired."_

 _Lori sighed. It was so hard to get anything out of Rick lately. He never wanted to talk about the job, about what was troubling him, instead he was always 'just tired'. She returned to her side of the bed and climbed back in, her back facing him now._

 _Rick pulled up the sheets on his side of the bed and slid inside. Resting his arm on her waist he pulled her into him. Her back against his chest, he kissed the top of her bare shoulder. "How was Carl's birthday party?" he asked._

 _"The kids had fun, but he missed you. A lot." She spoke softly. Carl turned five today. A milestone, that Rick had to miss because of his job. Lori thought to herself just how many more he would have to miss._

 _Lori felt Rick press his forehead into the back of her neck. He did not say anything, there was nothing really for him to say._

* * *

 **Present Day:**

Lori caressed Shane's chest as their breathing returned to normal. The past few days left her weary, from Rick's unannounced visit, the divorce papers, him finding out she was moving in the way that he did. All the problems that she spent running away from and ignoring were now starting to come to a head, and it felt like she was suffocating.

"So, what is your plan?" Shane asked, piercing her thoughts.

Lori stopped caressing his chest and laid flat on her back. She looked up at her ceiling in deep thought. "I'm going to start a new life away from here. Carl and Judith deserve the best life. No accusing stares, none of the judgement that Rick and I-that I brought to them."

Shane peered at Lori from the corner of his eye. There was something terribly wrong that she was hiding from him. It was not just the guilt of the two of them sleeping together, but something before all of this. Something she was hiding that was eating her up from the inside. "Lori?" He queried, tracing the frown of her lips with his thumb. "Tell me what's going on."

* * *

 **Past: Around 3 Years Prior To**

 _"Are you close?"_

 _The sweat trickled down his brow as he drove in and out of her center like a piston, trying his best to get her to reach her peak._

 _"Not yet." Lori bemoaned, lifting her hips to match his thrusts._

 _"How much longer?" He questioned through labored breaths._

 _"I don't know Rick, just keep going!" Lori closed her eyes and tried to focus on her pleasure. She and Rick rarely had sex nowadays and when they did it was always the same. Missionary until she pretended to orgasm. All the intensity and desire was gone from their bedroom, and for a while now, it just felt like a job. A dull, tedious, job._

 _"Almost?" Rick asked again, his own release just as elusive. He was tired and in a hurry._

 _Fed up with his questioning, Lori did what she does best. Channeling her inner Streep, she quivered beneath him, moaning in artificial ecstasy. Relieved, Rick kissed her swiftly then rolled off of her, but instead of lying down for sleep, he sat up and began reaching for his boxers._

 _"Where are you going?" Lori confronted. It was bad enough that she had to pretend in satisfaction, but now he was running off. She sat up in the bed and observed him._

 _"I told you. I told Shane I would cover his shift tonight."_

 _Lori was incensed. "Rick! Are you serious right now? You're running off to work, when we just...?" She raked her fingers through her long brunette hair in frustration. "You're never here anymore_ _. Even when you are here, you're not. Not really. Its no wonder you can barely keep it up."_

 _Rick continued to get dressed, putting on a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. He did not want to argue. He had no energy to argue, but she was doing her best to pull him into one._

 _"Rick!" Lori yelled, annoyed at his dismissal of her._

 _Rick raised his hand in defeat. "What do you want me to say, Lori?"_

 _"Anything! Something. I want you to talk to me!" She shouted, rising to her knees on the bed, bringing the sheet up with her to cover her bare body. With pleading eyes she waited for him to answer her. To say something. To participate in a conversation for once._

 _Rick turned away and grabbed his hat off the nightstand. "God not now, Lori. Can we not do this now?"_

 _"Then when, Rick? When is it a good time for you?" Lori watched as Rick made his way to the door where he stopped short._

 _"I don't know, but I'm going to be late for work." And in a instant, he was gone and Lori was left alone._

 _It was as if she had any intimation of what was going on in her parents bedroom, the sound of infant cries began to wail through the baby monitor on the nightstand, harshly cutting through the silence of the cold, forsaken bedroom Lori shared with her husband. Unable to move to see what was wrong with her child, Lori sat on her knees, the sheet that was covering her long since fallen. Her own tears began to fall. Soundlessly, she cried right along with her baby girl in the next room over._

* * *

 **Present Day:**

"Nothing is going on." She lied. Not wanting to further pull him into her mess. "I'm good. I will be even better when I finally get out of here."

"You're lying." Shane sighed. He returned to his position on his back. "I know you, Lori."

She had no response. Shane did know her well, probably better than anyone else. Better than Rick for sure.

"Who knows," Lori began, changing the subject. "Maybe you can come visit me in Cali, once I get settled down. I'm sure there will be plenty of eye-candy on the beach. For them and for you." She playfully slapped at his six pack stomach. She knew that could never be the case. When she leaves King County that would be it. Everything and everyone gone with it.

"Yeah?" Shane chuckled grabbing at her hand, "Well, I've got a better idea. Maybe I should just come with you. Seeing as how you're the only one that can satisfy my sweet tooth."

* * *

 **Past: 1 Year Before The Accident**

 _"It is all the rage nowadays."_

 _The skies were clear and the sun was shining. Lori sat on the terrace of her favorite coffee shop with one of her good friends, Karen._

 _"It does all the hard work for you. You take a compatibility test and bam! Dozens of matches." Lori listened as Karen explained about her past year fishing on an internet dating site."I met this guy, Tyreese. Super hot. Big, strong, used to play for the Atlanta Falcons before he got injured."_

 _"Really?" She looked at Karen in disbelief, anyone could say anything over the internet and it would be true._

 _"Yes, really! He sent me a team photo with him on the roster, and then I looked it up. He was indeed telling the truth." Karen laughed._

 _"I would be so nervous." Lori opined. "You never know with people nowadays."_

 _"That's true, but me and Ty didn't meet until 2 months after we began chatting online. And from what I hear from others, that's a long time. Everything was on my terms, when and where we would meet. I felt like I knew him already. I trusted him before we even laid eyes on each other. I trusted him even more after I got a taste."_

 _Lori laughed at her friends lack of couth, but considered. It did seem like a pretty smart way to meet someone. To understand someone at their very core before you even get physical. Before you even decide to tie yourself to them. Compatibility is important in any relationship. Something that can easily be overshadowed by pleasantries and manners. Compatibility, something that she and Rick were now suddenly, or not so, lacking._

 _Karen leaned forward and gave Lori a friendly pat on the arm. "Why am I even telling you this though? You're happily married to the town's law with not one but TWO wonderful children."_

 _"Right." Lori dismissed. "Happily is one way to describe it."_

 _"Leave the sorry internet dating to people like me who need a damn computer to help them with basic human connections." Karen said laughing at her own expense. She observed Lori, noticing the troubled expression on her face. Karen's previous state of glee turned into one of concern. "Is everything alright? You don't look too good."_

 _Lori took a sip of her cappuccino, and waved her friend off. "I'm fine." She lied. In fact she was pondering if Rick would even show up in her matches these days. Something told her she knew the answer to that already._

* * *

 _"Why can't Shane do it?" Lori complained. A fussy Judith fidgeted in her arms as she tried to pull up her pants after giving her one more diaper change before she handed her off to Rick. He was taking the children to stay at his parents house for the weekend._

 _"Because I told my superior that I would." Rick calmly tried to justify why he was taking another 12-hour shift, leaving Lori alone once more._

 _Lori finished pulling up Judith's pants and now held her in her arms. "If I didn't know any better I would think you wanted to be there. Away from me. Away from your children."_

 _Rick sighed and left the nursery. Lori trailed close behind him, out the room and down the stairs, not wanting to let him off the hook for this one. "I don't understand why every time someone is needed for a shift or an assignment, you're the first one in line. You have other responsibilities, Rick!"_

 _As they approached the living room, Rick swiftly turned his body around to face her. "That is exactly why I take the shifts, Lori!" His voice just slightly louder than he intended it to be, causing his wife to step back and clutch her daughter tighter. "Because I have other responsibilities." Rick sighed and lowered his voice. "Just because we stopped answering the phone, doesn't mean the debt collectors stopped calling." He placed his hands on his hips in aggravation, trying to get through to his wife. "This house... this house that you wanted. No. You needed, so everyone in town could see just how well you made it, to raise our kids in, it isn't going to pay for itself. I work so we can eat. I work so we can have a roof over our heads. I take almost every shift so I don't have to hear you constantly badger me when all I want..." Rick paused trying to find the best words. "When all I'm trying to do is give you the life you wanted."_

 _Lori seethed at Rick's revelation. He was placing the blame, the state of the their marriage solely on her, painting her as nothing more than a Suzy homemaker, Stepford wife, who is all about the image. She held Judith tight to her hip, bouncing her slightly to sooth the tension she was sure the baby felt between her two parents. "You think I want to badger you, Rick? You think I wake up in the morning and say 'how can I make Rick's life miserable today?' What about me, Rick? You don't think I get tired of asking you to just be here?" She stared him straight in the eye, her voice raised three octaves as she spat out her next words without any thought of the ramifications. "You only care about yourself. You don't care about me, or Judith. You don't even give a shit about your own son!"_

 _"I'm ready, Daddy."_

 _A tiny voice came from the staircase. It was Carl. He stood at the last step with his backpack and a brown sheriff's hat on his head. Almost an exact replica of his father's. His face was forlorn at the sight of his parents arguing once again._

 _Lori's gaze went from Carl to Rick again, who was staring fiery blue daggers straight through her. She had never seen such rage in his eyes before. "Let's go, Carl." He ordered. Rick pulled Judith from Lori's arms and the baby began to a full on cry. Her young mind's perception that something was off, finally taking its toll._

 _"Shh...Shhh...Shh." Rick gently cooed, bouncing Judith in his arms, trying to calm her down. "It's okay." He picked up the baby bag that was resting on the couch. Giving Lori one final stare, he made his way out the front door with his children, slamming it loudly behind him._

 _Lori watched as the car pulled out the driveway, then she angrily stomped off to the kitchen to begin her daily chores with Rick and their argument weighing heavily on her mind. Her word choice could not have been any poorer and to make matter worse, Carl heard them. She banged the used dishes in the sink, taking her anger out on her white saucers. The had been a gift from her parents on their wedding day. It was the last thing she wanted, for Carl to ever feel like he was unloved. She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, but the way Rick acted and the choices he made, for her did not make them seem any less true._

 _She started to throw the white pieces of porcelain from the sink when unexpectedly, a shooting pain channeled through Lori's lower back causing her to keel over. She moved over to the living room and sat on the couch to let it pass, but then another excruciatingly sharp pain. She stayed for a while hoping the cramping would subside. It felt like a thousand knives were pressed into her at once. Lori made her way to the bathroom, pulling down her pants she sat on the toilet. Her underwear stained a brownish, red color. She was bleeding far more than her monthly cycle. Nervously alarmed, Lori made her way to her purse in her bedroom and grabbed her cell phone, still clutching at the pain in her back that had yet to abate. Scrolling through her contacts she looked for his number and pressed call._

* * *

 _"Hello, Mrs. Grimes."_

 _Dr. Carson walked into the medical room where Lori was lying back on the exam table._

 _"How are we feeling?" He asked._

 _"I have a bit of a headache and I feel a little nauseous, but for the most part I am okay now." Upon arrival she was given pain medication to numb the cramping. Lori watched as Dr. Carson pulled a seat next to her at the medical table._

 _"Mrs. Grimes," He started, pushing up the bridge of his glasses. "Did you know you were pregnant?"_

 _"Pregnant?"_

 _"Yes. About 8 weeks actually."_

 _She did not feel any different. Lori could barely remember the last time she and Rick had sex. With Judith being only two, Carl, a growing boy and all the problems in her marriage, she barely had the time to pay attention to herself, a missed cycle or anything of the sort._ _"You said 'were' pregnant?"_

 _"You had a miscarriage. I'm sorry." She looked away from her doctor and gazed out into the ceiling above her, silently digesting his words. A part of her was relieved. There was no way she and Rick would be able to handle another child right now, but on the other hand she was heartbroken. She lost her child without even knowing. A part of her. So caught up in trying to keep things afloat with Rick, she neglected herself. Her health, her baby's health. There was no telling who he or she would become, but because she...he had been so selfish, they would never know. Anger was beginning to boil from deep within her. Lori softly placed her hand on her stomach. "Doc?"_

 _"Yes, Mrs. Grimes."_

 _"Don't tell my husband."_

* * *

 _Lori walked out of the doctor's office and into the car that was waiting for her at the front entrance._

 _"Is everything okay?" He asked when she sat down and put on her seat belt._

 _"I need you to do me a favor." She said._

 _"Anything."_

 _"Do not tell Rick about this."_

 _"Wha-?"_

 _"Shane!" Lori yelled. Her face hard and her eyes stern._

 _"Alright." He gripped the steering wheel tight. "I won't tell Rick."_

 _Shane stepped on the gas and drove her back home._

* * *

 _It was 10pm that night when Rick returned home. The mood in the house as he walked through the front door was placid. The only sound to be heard was the subdued hum of the television coming from the living room. Rick stepped into the space to find Lori lying under a heavy blanket on the couch, surfing through the channels. He was still piqued about earlier in the morning, with what she said in front of their son, but as the hours went by, he realized he wasn't at his best either._

 _"Hey Lori, I'm-" he began, but she quickly cut him off. It surprised him a bit because he did not realize she was aware that he was even there._

 _"Did you eat?" She queried. Her eyes still trained on the television in front of her._

 _"Not since lunch, hours ago." He replied._

 _"There is a plate of food wrapped on the stove for you. You can warm it up in the microwave." She pressed the power button to turn off the TV and moved the blanket off of her, she slowly eased off of the couch, wincing a bit as she did. She walked past Rick without another word, and made her way up the stairs to their bedroom where she closed the door behind her._

 _Lori sat up against the headboard on the side of her bed, and pulled out her laptop from her nightstand. She was not tired, too much going on in her mind, but there was one thing she knew for sure. That she did not want to be around Rick. Not now. She powered on her computer and opened the internet browser. She checked her emails, nothing but the regular promotions. She checked the weather and the top news. After a while and without too much thought, she found herself on the site Karen told her about those days ago._

* * *

 _A Few Weeks Later:_

 _"We're leaving now." Rick said as he grabbed his fishing pole at the door. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"_

 _"No. You and Carl should have some male bonding time, me and Judith will find some fun for us this weekend. Isn't that right, Judy?" The baby babbled unintelligible words, laughing in her mother's arms as if she understood._

 _Rick gave her a small smile. "Alright then. Carl, say goodbye to your mother and sister."_

 _"Bye Mom!" He said excitedly, giving her a rushed hug, ready to hit the road to the lake with his father._

 _Rick moved in close to give Judith a kiss on her head, then motioned to kiss Lori on her lips, but she flinched, causing him to back away. "I'll see you Sunday." She offered._

 _Rick nodded and closed the door behind them. "Just me and you, baby." Lori said when they were gone._

 _Her phone pinged indicating she had a new email. After getting Judith settled in her pen with her toys, Lori took her phone out of her pocket to check the email. Her body coursed with excitement when she saw it was from Mike, a man she had struck up quite the relationship with online. They had yet to meet up mainly because she was keeping almost everything about her real life anonymous. She fabricated this online persona and it was doing well in filling the void of companionship, but the more they talked the more she wanted to meet him. She was able to tell Mike her feelings and he would listen. He would share his life with her, as they discussed everything under the sun. It also helped that he was extremely attractive. She never had it in her mind to cheat on Rick. It was only meant to be a distraction, but Mike was offering her everything that Rick wasn't. She and Rick had not had sex since she found out about her miscarriage. Primarily because the thought of being touched by her own husband left a distasteful sentiment in her heart, but when she spoke to Mike, she found herself turned on. She was treading risky waters with their innocent flirting through emails and while her mind was telling her to stop, still she quickly grabbed her laptop to email him back._

* * *

 _Lori rose from the bed with a heaviness on her heart caused by the words he used during their romp. Each time she slept with him she felt more and more guilty. Not for Rick, not for her marriage, but for what she had done to Mike. She was stringing him along because she was having the best sex of her life, because she loved the feeling of being wanted and needed. Now she was dangerously close to something she did not plan on from the start of this whole thing. Lori slipped out of the bed and reached for her dress that was lying on the nearby living chair. It was 2:30 in the morning now, she had come over to his house for an evening in. Dinner and a movie, and of course the sex, but now it was time to leave and she preferred to do so under the mask of night. It was still a small town and she could not afford the gossip. Not when she had a son who attended the elementary school, a husband who was the law. She felt enough shame as it was already. She had her fun, but it was time to put an end to this. She picked up her heels that lie on the floor and held them in her hand. She would put them on when she reached outside._

 _Her head snapped behind her quickly when she heard the springs squeak from the bed._

 _"Not again." He spoke hoarsely, stretching his arms out and sitting up in the bed scrutinizing her._

 _Lori gave him an apologetic smile. "I did not want to wake you." She supplied._

 _"No, you just wanted to creep out of here like a thief in the night." He reached beside him to click on the bedside lamp. "You don't have to leave Jenny."_

 _"I do. I hav-"_

 _"You have to what?" Mike looked at her incredulously. "I probably should not have said it. Not this early. I probably should not have told you I love you, but it does not make it any less true."_

 _Lori sighed. "Its not."_

 _"It is!" He yelled at her, catching her off guard. She backed up closer to the door._

 _Mike got up from the bed to meet her where she stood. The mistrust on her face easily discernible to him. "What about everything we said? What we talked about? Our future."_

 _"That was all.." Lori's words, caught up in the anonymity of internet dating all coming back to haunt her now._

 _"Don't you care about me, Jenny?" Mike rubbed his hand up and down her bare arms. He stopped then gripped at the flesh right before her elbows. His whole fist easily wrapping around her skinny arms. "I don't want to let you go. We can start that family you wanted. So what if you can't have children. That does not matter to me. You don't have to leave."_

 _There was nothing more that Lori wanted to do in that moment but leave. "Okay." She said instead, dropping her shoes._

 _"Thank you." His grip loosened on her arms and she stepped away from him and took off her dress again. Leaning into Mike she kissed him once more as his hands roamed over her small frame. She would stay tonight._

* * *

 _Lori walked into her home early the next morning and immediately noticed how clean it was. None of Carl's toys were lying around, all of the surfaces were wiped clean, not a spec of dust in sight. The slight hint of lemon wood polish still wafted in the air. She continued further into the house to see that there were candles set up on almost every free surface of the living room. Her eyes fell to the couch where a sleeping Rick lay oblivious of her presence. He had his deep blue dress shirt on, it was her favorite, and a pair of khaki pants. She dropped her purse and shoes on the living chair and ambled her way to the kitchen and dining area where she saw two place settings of their finest dinnerware set up with a bouquet of white roses and candles in between. A bottle of chardonnay lay in a bucket of water, ice long since melted._

 _There was a strange feeling that came over her as she stared at the two vacant seats of the date that didn't happen. It was not one of pity or sadness, but heightened indignation. All of this just seemed to little and two damn late._

 _Lori returned to the living room, walking over to the couch to nudge Rick awake._

 _With and annoyed grunt, he strains his eyes open and looks up at his wife standing before him. "What time is it?" He asked, moving to sit up._

 _"6:30"_

 _"And you're just getting back?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _Rick suppressed the anger he felt rising within him. "Did you have fun with Karen? I'm guessing you did since you just got in."_

 _"I thought you were working late?" She asked motioning around the room._

 _"I got off early. Since the kids are with your parents, I wanted to surprise you with a little something. I did not expect you to be out all night."_

 _Lori turned away from him. Moving her purse to the side on the chair she sat down. Lori gazed at Rick. Her mind had never been more clear about their marriage than it was in this moment and if she did not come out and say what she needed to say, she probably never would. She was about to start when Rick spoke first._

 _"I know I have not been the best husband. Or the best father," Lori shifted in her seat, listening to him speak. "I wanted to let you know I'm sorry. I truly am. I'm going to make the time." His hands moved up his face, fingers raking through his hair, he sighed. "All those shifts I picked up, I caught up. The mortgage, the bills, we are good for now. I can make the time, Lori. For this kids and for you."_

 _She heard him. Every last word he said, but they were just that, words. Words she had been waiting five years to hear. Words that meant nothing to her now. It was hollow, just like their marriage. Instead of love all she felt was indifference. Then she thought of Mike._

 _Rick stood from his seat and walked over to his wife, kneeling in front of her. His his hands rested on both of her knees. "Lori, I'm here. I'm ready."_

 _Standing, his hands slid off of her, and she looked down to view him. His eyes imploring, hers full of apathy. "I can't do this anymore." She stated, walking out of the room, leaving him alone just like he had done to her all those times before._

* * *

 **Present Day:**

Shane leaned back on the headboard, idly running his fingers through her hair as she nestled against him. He knew that at this moment, he would not get anything out of her about what was troubling her, so he changed tactics and went back to discussing the future. Something that she seemed hopeful for. He wrapped his arm around her body and cuddled her closer to him.

"So what are you going to do over there on the west coast? How are you going to support yourself?"

Lori furrowed her brows. "I have...some money."

* * *

 **Past: 2 Weeks Before The Accident**

 _Lori stood at the job board outside of Carl's school. She was picking him up to take her to her parents home which she was staying at until she found her own place. She knew she did not want to stay in King County forever. California sounds nice, she thought to herself. The cell phone in her pocket began to ring once again. She took it out and put it on mute._

 _Mike again._

 _He had been calling her incessantly and she hoped he would take a hint. No matter how many times she told him that she did not want what he wanted anymore, he still felt the need to try to change her mind. When talking clearly was not getting through to him, she just resorted to ignoring him._

 _Her focus went back to the ads hanging up. If she was going to get this divorce, that Rick was painfully taking his time with signing off on, she would need a job. Money to support herself and her children. Getting married and having children so young had been her plan, but plans do not always work out. She needed a new plan._

 _"Excuse me?"_

 _An unfamiliar voice came from behind her. "May I help you?" She queried._

 _"Mrs. Grimes, is it?"_

 _Lori contemplated the tall, brown haired man before her, confused as to how he knew her name. "Yes?"_

 _"Hi. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance." He extended his hand out to her, and she cautiously took it. "My name is Phillip Blake and I have a proposition for you."_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N(1): Hey thanks for your reviews on the last chapter. And look! I got you a nice new one so soon. Gasp! Lol. I hope you enjoy this. I wanted to say in regards to Lori in 10, I love how some people can feel a bit for her, while others could give a damn. It should be complicated. What I was trying to convey is that she is complex and she did make bad choices. Some insane, nonsensical choices no less, but at the bare bones of it all there were things that happened to her that changed who she was, who she thought she was, and what her plans for her life were. She did not just wake up one morning vindictive because she was unhappy. I was trying to illustrate that it was a gradual process until there was point where, I think a lot of people can relate, is when you just stop caring. Now everything she does after that, even the way she reacts to her predicaments is all on her. I love your input, please keep it coming, and enjoy this next chapter.**_

* * *

 _'Knock! Knock! Knock!'_

 _'Bang! Bang! Bang!'_

"Who the fuck is knocking on the door like that?" Shane pulled his arm from under Lori and swung his legs off the bed to stand up.

"Shane wait..." Lori warned, reaching for the sheets to cover her naked body.

 _'Bang! Bang! Bang!'_

He pulled up his jeans and grabbed his beretta from the nightstand. "Stay here. I'm just going to check and see who it is."

Lori sat up in the bed, a nauseating feeling overcoming her as she reached for her satin robe.

* * *

 **A Few Hours Earlier:**

"...and so she just called me, said she wanted to meet up." The last few words choked out of his mouth. "I only brought Andre because I knew once she met him she would love him. Then maybe... me."

Rick's head was spinning. This tall tale about his wife allegedly having this alternate guise, an affair lasting months with a man while they were still married. It all felt foreign to him and hard to process. It made the case of mistaken identity all the more rational. There was no way Lori would go through all of that just for a quick fling. There was no way she would put her reputation on the line. Lastly, there was no way he was completely oblivious to it all. He knew her better than that. He hoped he did.

Listening to Mike tell the story like a love sick puppy done wrong made him furious. It all was a bunch of bullshit. It had to be, or Rick Grimes was the biggest idiot in King County.

"Mike...I" Rick started.

"You don't believe me? I can prove it!" Mike pleaded. "I can pull up her profile on the dating site."

Rick stared at the man across from him. He did not want to entertain this any longer, but decided to call his bluff. If it was true he would have the necessary proof. In the back of his mind he hoped he did not have the proof, but it did not stop his palms from getting clammy. Rick rolled his chair to the side, allowing Mike access to his desktop. Mike pulled the internet browser up and typed in the address for the site, logging in with his username and password.

He searched through his list of contacts looking for Jenny's name. Mike sighed in frustration as her name was not showing up where it usually was. "I don't..." He continued to click through his pages and pages of contacts. "She must have deleted it." Rick let out a long breath he did not realize he was holding. The tension began to slowly subside. There was no proof.

Noticing the frantic state he was in looking for the profile, Rick stood from his chair and placed his hand on the man's shoulder to calm him down. "Mike..."

"No." He said, jerking himself away from Rick. "She must have deleted her profile."

"Just sit." Rick motioned to him.

"No! You think I 'm lying, but I'm not lying! I can prove it, please!" Mike begged. He closed the site and opened a new internet window. "I still have our emails, all of our correspondence. I did not delete that." Mike desperately opened his email account and typed in the first few letters of Jenny's email in the search bar. Dozens of mail began to load, and a small smirk of victory formed on Mike's face as they popped up. "She said getting through to her via email was better than text." He explained.

Rick leaned closer to the computer monitor to see what Mike had pulled up. Sure enough there were loads of back and forth, intimate details about their time together, but still he did not recognize the email address, nor were there any photos that would specifically identify Lori as being this Jenny.

"This could be anyone." He said matter of factly, taking a seat back in his chair. "How am I supposed to believe that this is my wi- the woman in that picture."

Mike rolled his eyes at Rick and went back to the emails on the screen, scrolling down to some of their earlier communications. When he found the email he was looking for, he opened it. He clicked on one of the attachments and immediately Rick's heart fell to his stomach. There she was, a smiling Lori laying down on her bed, posing for the camera. No, not just her bed. Their bed. Their marriage bed. The bed they conceived two children in. He recognized the sheets because he complained to Lori about how ridiculously expensive they were. Rick held back the sting of tears that threatened to fall from his face. It was all true. He swallowed hard to keep the contents of his stomach from rising up. Rick felt absolutely sick. Mike was not lying. No one else would be able to get that picture. Even he never even seen that picture before, but there was no doubting that it was her. It was indeed Lori.

Mike stepped away from the computer now, understanding that Rick finally got the realization that he was telling the truth, just based on how pale he looked.

After a moment of semi-collecting his thoughts, he ordered Mike to follow him. He arranged for one of his officers to take Mike back to his hotel room and keep and eye on him. It was not that Rick thought he would run away or anything of that nature, but this case had just gotten disgustingly messy and it was only going to get worse. Without Shane around, there was no one here he could trust with the new information about his wife.

"I don't want him going anywhere." Rick told the officer. "No calling anyone. No phones, no internet. No contact. Nothing."

The officer nodded and escorted Mike away.

Rick phone vibrated again, this time notifying him of a voicemail. He ignored it.

Rick exited the station, grabbing Officer Duane on his way to accompany him. Hurriedly they entered his squad car, Rick turned the ignition, and speedily drove out the lot. Only one destination to go.

* * *

 **Present:**

Rick pulled up to the outside of Lori's home. The home was dark, save for a dim light coming through from the living room window. There were so many emotions streaming through his body. Confusion and hurt, sadness and disgust, but the strongest was just pure anger. Mike had been telling the truth about their relationship and what angered him the most, was she just let it go on. Had him playing the fool instead of just telling him straight up that she moved on. Months of false hope he held on to that they would be able to make it work again. He did mess up. He dropped the ball on being a good husband but he never doubted his love for his wife. He never entertained the idea of stepping out on him. Hell, he waited so long to even kiss Michonne because he was trying to honor his vow. He felt like the biggest idiot in the world. To make matters even worse, the idea that she could somehow be involved with a plot to murder just enraged him more. Who was this woman he married?

Rick departed from his vehicle and scanned the area. His eyes immediately landed on the car that sat in Lori's driveway. A car he recognized very well. The owner of the car he had been trying to call all evening. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention. Rick swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat. There was a dull pain in his chest as he made his way to the front door. It felt like someone stabbed him with a sharp knife and decided to just leave it there. He rapped on the door.

 _'Knock! Knock! Knock'_

There was no answer. Well at least not one fast enough for him. He looked at Duane who was standing on his right side. A worried expression on his face. Rick flared his nose then balled his hand into a tight fist and struck the door with all his might.

 _'Bang! Bang! Bang!'_

* * *

Shane looked through the peephole, shocked at who he saw standing there. He rested his forehead against the door. "Shit."

There was no escaping this. He knew it was going to come sooner or later. He just hoped it would be a later that would never come. Or at least one in which he had on a shirt and was not in such a compromising position.

"Open the door!" He heard his best friend of twenty five years yell from the other side.

"Fuck." He mumbled underneath his breath. Shane looked around the house, hoping for some exit to magically appear that would save him from having to deal with this confrontation right now, but alas there was none. He tucked his beretta in the back of his waistband and reluctantly turned the lock. Before Shane could open the door, Rick pushed his way in and past him. Heading straight for the bedroom.

"Rick!"

Rick ignored Shane's call for him and made his way to his wife's bedroom. She stood resolutely in her satin robe, her arms crossed over her body, glaring at Rick in the doorway. Not necessarily shocked to see him there, Lori just understood it was the chickens coming home to roost.

"Where are my kids?" He asked. His face was hard and his voice was steady, not showing a hint of emotion.

"My parents." She answered, just as deadpanned.

"Get dressed." He ordered.

"What? Why?" She queried.

"Lori, GET dressed." He reiterated louder. "I know about Mike. Did you think I... Forget it." Rick closed his eyes and composed himself. "Get dressed. I'm taking you into the station for questioning. Do not make me slap the cuffs on you."

In that moment her arms fell from her body and her resolved faltered. A sole tear fell down her cheek, her breathing heightened and her palms were sweaty. "Rick...?" Her voice quivered as she called his name. He turned away from her disgusted. He could no longer even look in her face.

* * *

"Rick, what the hell is going on man?! Why are you here with another officer?"

A bare chested Shane confronted Rick as he left the bedroom and made his way to the living area. Rick ignored him and went to Duane.

"She's in the bedroom getting dressed. When she's done, we'll take her back to the station. I want her to go straight into one of the interrogation rooms. No questions asked. No one hears about this until I'm ready, understand?"

Officer Duane nodded in understanding and walked back toward the bedroom to retrieve Lori. Rick tredded back outside into the night air. The house was stifling. He let out a groan of frustration. All this new information hitting him at once and he did not know how to process it all. His solitude did not last but a minute when Shane came outside after him.

Shane cautiously placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Rick..."

There was no more holding back. Rick jerked his body away from Shane. Spinning around, he cocked his right arm back, punching Shane square on the left side of his jaw sending him backwards on the grass. Wasting no time, Rick was on top of him, pummeling his face further and further into the ground with his face. He could hear Shane's nose crack under the strike of his hand, but he did not care. He continued wailing on him even after hearing Lori's distant screams in the background.

"Rick! Stop it!"

He did not stop though. He did not want to. The pain in his right hand did nothing to dull the pain of Shane's betrayal, so instead he just switched and started punching him with his left. Duane left Lori in the doorway and ran over to pull Rick off of Shane. With the newfound space between the two, Shane leaned forward and whipped his beretta from the back of his waistband. His face was bloody, his hands shaky.

"Shane!" Lori cried out.

Rick did nothing but glare back at Shane, unfazed by the barrel pointing straight at his chest. He felt nothing but pure animosity for the man he once called his best friend. There was an indistinct click from the gun and for a moment it felt like all time had stopped. Shane's face turned from anger to shock. Rick turned to view Lori, who stared on with wide eyes. Her hand over her mouth.

Duane released Rick and ran over to Shane, toppling him over, rattling the gun from his hand. He wrestled him onto his stomach and cuffed his hands behind his back.

Rick put his hand to his chest. No blood, no pain. The gun had jammed.

* * *

Rick watched Duane escort Shane into the ambulance they called in. Rick did a number on his face, so bad he was sure there was more than a broken nose going on there. The fact that Shane just drew his gun on him and furthermore pulled the trigger, still seemed surreal. Rick never thought Shane would betray him in such a way. Everyday smiling in his office, hanging out, telling him he had his back and to be patient with Lori, when all the while he was screwing with her. Rick began to contemplate on his own role in this. Was he such a bad person? Was he that terrible of a husband and friend that he deserved to be betrayed by the people he loved the most? All he could think about was his children. What all of this would do to them. To Carl especially. He was old enough to understand the things going on around him. Rick began to wonder if he had any idea of what his mother was up to.

There was no way Rick was going to be able to keep this entire fiasco under wraps now. He just hoped there were not more surprises coming his way. Rick walked to his squad car where Lori sat in the back. Her head hung low, and she avoided his eyes as he slipped into the driver's seat. Rick was not sure what to say to her. He had a lot of questions, about Mike, about her potential role in his attempted murder. Questions that needed answers and he will get them, but there was one that was on the edge of his tongue that he had to ask.

"Why Shane?"

Lori viewed Rick through the rearview mirror. Their eyes connected in a way it had not since the day they were married.

"Because I love him."

Rick's eyes left hers in the mirror as he revved up the engine. He was not sure what to expect from her answer, but he definitely did not expect it to make him feel completely dejected as he did now.

* * *

"Officer Grimes!"

One of his fellow officers ran up to him as he closed the door on Lori in the interrogation room. He sighed, knowing it was likely more work for him to do as if he did not have enough on his plate already. "What is it?" He queried when the man reached him.

"We got a hit on Dixon."

Rick's eyes widened in surprise. Finally some good news.

"Where?"

"A convenience store 'bout 35/40 miles outside of the county. A Trooper spotted him riding on Route 52. I think he is coming back."

"Did they arrest him?"

"He was gone by the time the Trooper realized who it was."

Rick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose."I want everyone we can spare out on patrol looking for him. He couldn't have gotten far. We have his brother. There is nothing else left here for him."

The officer left to go carry out his instructions. When he was gone, Rick stepped back into his office. He would make Lori wait a bit before asking her any questions. He was just so damn tired from the events of the evening and he needed to take a break to compose himself so he could do his job properly without emotions getting in the way. Rick closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair. It was all good this morning. He was content, happy, with Michonne.

Michonne.

Rick pulled out his cell phone remembering that Michonne called him earlier in the evening. It was probably best that he called her back now, she could be that calming voice that he needed. Also he needed to warn her about Dixon's whereabouts. He dialed her number and put the phone to his ear. After a few rings he was forwarded to her voicemail. She could just be sleeping right now. It was well after midnight. Rick tapped through his phone to check his one voicemail. It was from Michonne.

When he played it, he could hardly make out any words, but he could hear distant voices. The kind that sound you hear when you are submerged underwater. He began to feel uneasy. Who was she talking to? The incoherent message went on for 6 minutes until he heard someone yell. His blood ran cold.

* * *

Rick grabbed Duane once again and hurried to his car. This night was shaping up to be the worst in his life. He was no longer angry about Lori or Shane. He did not give a shit about Mike or the hit. All he was worried about was Michonne.

He was on route to Michonne's home when the dispatch blared.

'10-16 Shots Fired at Baldwin Road. 10-16 Shots Fired'

Baldwin road was where Michonne lived. Rick hit his sirens and stepped on the pedal. The speedometer gradually pushing 100.

* * *

When he arrived her house was still. Just like he had feared, a motorcycle bike was parked in the middle of her grass lawn.

Pulling his gun, Rick motioned for Duane to go check the back of the house, while he went through the front. Slowly and steadily, Rick traversed across the front yard. His right foot just landed on the first step of the porch when the front door opened. A bloody Michonne stood in the entrance. Her big brown eyes watery, expanded in shock. Her normally brilliant skin was flushed pale. She stood paralyzed at the door.

"Michonne? Baby?" He said, taking in her appearance There was blood all over her shirt and hands, the biggest pool on the left side of her neck and shoulder.

Her eyes finally landed on his.

"Rick?"

Before he could reach out for her, she collapsed on the floor.

* * *

 _ **A/N (2): Thanks for reading. Next Chapter, Michonne's house. Sorry I had to make up some weird street name for Michonne's home when I never mentioned it before. I did not realize I would be needing it in my story or else I would have stated it somewhere earlier. Apologies for that.**_


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